TF2 Spy's Recruiting
by Herr Doktor
Summary: Now rewriting all chapters. REWRITTEN: CH1
1. Chapter 1: Red Fish Blu Fish

AN: I re-wrote chapter 1, then accidentally deleted it, then went into a rage for a while and refused to write anything because of the wasted effort, then re-wrote chapter 1 again, then ate ice cream. Strawberry cheesecake tastes wonderful.

There are many reasons I applied to be the BLU corp's spy. Money was first, boredom second, and curiosity third. I had no equipment, but plenty of stealth training. I knew how to use the tools, the devices. Frankly, this job should have been easy.

Define 'easy'.

Six Feet. Green eyes. Brown hair. Slim. Twenty-five years old. I was sent a paper as a sat at my home in France. I inherited the house when my parents died on a boat bombing. It's a huge Victorian-style mansion, but I can't eat walls. I'm going to starve if I sit here brooding any longer. These days, espionage and assassination is less and less useful, and the few remaining job openings are manned by more experienced spies. I was I virtually invisible to the spy world.

I was pretty surprised to fine a letter that wasn't a bill or a threat. (Seven years ago, I accidentally bumped into a fat, rotund Englishman, spilling his coffee all over him. He found my address from his attempt to sue me. I won out, but for seven years he has sent me letters vividly detailing how he will tear me to pieces for ruining his Sunday suit. It was ugly. Dung-brown with little hairs on it. He has four Chihuahuas, so obviously the hair can't be from them….)

I slit the envelope open and read briefly over the contents. It was from the 'builders league united'. All in English, but it seems English is everywhere these days, so I took the liberty of learning fluent English. (And Mandarin, Spanish, French, German, and just a tad bit of Italian.)

It was a job offer, with quite the decent salary. The contract was for eight months, and then I'd be given the paycheck and the boot. A picture appeared of two generic men, wearing fancy suits. One red, one blue. The cigarette was a nice touch.

I mailed back a letter of acceptance, and within two days I'd gotten a huge parcel, along with a water bill, electric bill, and another threat. _"When I get my hands on you, I'm going to rip your heart out and eat it! Then I'll spit it out and eat it again!"_ There was also a cloaking watch, which I stared at in disbelief. They say only around five men in the world possess it, it's that expensive and rare.

It seemed so generous. There were also a one-way train ticket, along with a paper detailing the station address and info. The train was an obscure line I'd never heard of before.

I made sure to arrive at the train station early, and ended up standing around for an hour since it showed up twenty minutes late.

When I entered, the train almost immediately shot off, throwing me off my feet and causing me to slam into something solid…something that went, _oof!_

Oh dear.

A man sat on the ground, rubbing his forehead. He was dressed in the medic uniform, and had a thick mass of brown hair. He put his glasses on gingerly and managed to drag himself onto his feet, still rubbing his sore face. More importantly, he was red.

"Er, hello," the medic said. His wary eyes darted at me, and then at the door.

"Eh…hi." I studied him briefly. He looked young, perhaps my age. He was rather thin, with a nervous, youthful expression. Notably, he looked almost as though he was about to cry as he rubbed his forehead. "Why on earth are the reds and blues on the same train?"

"I don't know," he said, slumping into a train seat. "It's veird. Vell, you are zhe only blue, and zhere is only vone ozher red, so I guess it is not zhat big of a deal. Maybe."

I looked down at the sweating, jittery figure sharply. "What? What other red?" This medic looked harmless, pathetic even, but any other mercenary….

"It's zhe red spy, so I suppose your rival?" He looked like he expected me to leap at him and kill him for divulging this information. He needs to calm down.

Well, it didn't matter too much. I didn't want to have to deal with another spy, so I just decided to cloak and sit down for the rest of the ride. They should have called the watch 'Sitting Duck'. I mean, I heard about a quackenbirdit watch. What kind of crap is that? I cloaked and leaned against the wall casually, and watched in bemusement as the red medic seemed to be on the verge of a heart attack as he saw me cloak.

Not a moment too soon. The red spy strolled in moments later.

"Ah, hello, Doktor! 'ow are you?" he said. I immediately disliked him. There was something leery about his face, something that boded nastiness. He wore a standard cloaking watch, but there was already dried blood caked on the watches screen. I wonder why? "Oh. We stopped just now. Who got on, docteur?"

"A blue spy," the man said nervously. He looked away from the red spy as he spoke. Perhaps the two weren't getting along well? That could be to our advantage. "He's cloaked somevhere."

"Hmph. Maybe I should take care of him. Eliminate some competition early, eh?"

"But the contract said not to kill anyone before we arrived!" the red medic protested.

"Paralyzed and dead are two different words, docteur," the red spy said. The assassin drew a stiletto out of his pocket. Fancy, if a bit medieval. "If I say, slit all the nerves below his neck…you could keep him alive, non?"

The red medic shook his head though. "Spy," he said, "Please, don't. He's invisible somevhere anyvay, it'll take you forever to find him."

"Non? Oh, I think I can find him," the spy said amiably. "After all, the blue team can't have found anyone better than me." He smirked. "Thought they certainly could've tried harder than to get the likes of you."

The medic gave a long-suffering sigh and left in a huff.

The red spy spent a few minutes looking about, during which I remained stalk still. Slowly he took out his knife and started walking around the train car, whistling softly to himself. Idly, he started tossing the knife hand to hand, and he was nearing me by the moment. Damn him!

I made a break for the door, and succeeded only in slamming right into the reentering red medic. Barreling past, I slammed the door behind me and made my way to the back of the train. As the train shook on the racks, I squeezed myself into the top row of a luggage rack. The slamming of train doors told me the red spy was following. He belongs in a mental hospital, he does!

I slammed into him, barreling past into the front carriages. I froze just before the driver's car, and stood stock still. What a way to start off a job. Soon, about fifteen minutes passed. I moved closer to the cart the reds were in. Their words drifted over to me, difficult to here because of the train's wheels rattling against the rails.

When the red spy entered the luggage car I hid in, my breath hitched. He had the murderous look of someone who liked killing. Someone hunting his prey, just for the sheer joy of killing. Psycho.

He took out his revolver and fired all five rounds into the air, one bullet narrowly missing my face. I froze, until at last I heard him ease out, cursing in Italian.

Then, their voices, just on the other side of the door, carried to my ears.

"…soon?"

"It's the next stop, Herr Spy."

"Good. Looks like I will have to deal with the other spy on the field in the end."

"You're too impatient. Now help me find my bonesaw."

"Find it yourself!"

"Fine-you can go without a medic on the battlefield later."

"Okay, okay, you monster!"

The train suddenly ground to a violent halt, throwing me out of the luggage rack and tossing me to the floor. Something made a faint snapping noise. Ouch.

I hurried to the exit and threw the door open. Hopping off, I recounted the reds I'd seen. The medic seemed hardly a threat, if he was threat at all. The red spy, though, was someone to look out for.

The battlefield looked almost comical. It was a large, flat, dirt plain that stretched out for about half a kilometer, with occasional random rock pillars and steel bunkers. In the center was what looked like a large sniper tower.

On either side of the field was a building complex, one red and one blue. With some apprehension, I made my way to the blue base. The only visible entrance was a massive, open garage door. This wasn't much of a battlefield. It looked like a video game where they hand you a gun, a hat, and say, "Go get em'!"

I crept into the garage door as quietly as humanly possible. The small garage door led into a massive hallway that led deeper into the building. There weren't any lights, so when I rounded a couple of corners, I was in complete darkness.

"WHO DA HELL ARE YOU?!"

Something slammed into my head, and everything went dark. Well, it was already dark, so it became, well, darker. Stop making my head hurt.

…

…kay?

…ou…rih…?

…Ah…your-…vake!

…How are you feeling?

I sat upright, and instantly regretted as pain shot through my skull. I flopped back down, trying to ignore the squeezing, throbbing sensation in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut until the pain passed, and then slowly opened them again to look around me.

A tired-looking German, or rather, medic, stood by my bed, taking notes. He glanced back down at me with sharp eyes that seemed to change colors even as I stared at them.

"Ah, zhe living dead avakes. How are you feeling?" he asked. "You took a nasty blow to the head. With a toy no less." The medic said these last words bitterly, as though he had a grudge against them.

" I feel as though my head 'as been split in 'alf," I groaned, rubbing my temples as a dull throb reverberated through my skull.

The medic made a note on his clipboard. "Zhat is because it _vas_. By a toy. I had the medigun seal the bone fractures, but I had quite an irritating time trying to get your cerebral swelling to go down."

"My brain was swollen?"

"Yes. Quite. Concussion, and your skull had a crack in the middle of it. Scout is so annoying. Vhen I came here, he split _my _head open as vell! Anyvay, you seem pretty resilient. Perhaps you vill be more of a success zhen your predecessor. Zhat pyro got him good."

"I encountered _your_ rival on the train," I said. "Mind if I ask what 'appened to the other red medic?"

"Oh," the medic said. "He's in quite a few pieces now. It vas a nasty, nasty sight. A piece over here, a bit over zhere, and a just a small piece vaaaaay over zhere."

"So he blew up."

"Ja. His hand hit me in zhe face. You know how disgusting zhat vas? Yech!"

Honestly I think Mann Co needs to reconsider who they hire, because it seems to me they're all insane.

" I've patched you up. You can go. Go left vhen you step out. Right leads to zhe engineer's room, and he has a special mini-sentry in zhere zat vill put so many holes in you zhat you vill resemble Swiss cheese. Amusing, no? I never liked swiss much."

"Alright, thanks. Where is my suit?" I had no shirt on either. "And where is my shirt? And tie?"

"Vell, your blood got all over zhem. Zhey are in zhe wash. Here, have zhis vone," he said, tossing me another suit and shirt. I tugged them on, deciding to forgo the tie, and hurried out of the room. I was eager to explore, and the pain in my head was virtually gone. Fine and dandy. Now to meet my other teammates.

Remembering to go left, I took that corridor, not wishing to meet this apparently bad-tempered engineer. I strode right into a kitchen, where Scout lounged. He was cleaning some blood off a bat. My blood. A strange sense of displeasure began to bubble in my gut.

He looked up, and scratched his blonde hair as he looked me over.

"Hey, a new guy! Don't be an ass like the last spy, okay?"

I glared at him. "You bashed open my skull."

He shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. Reflex."

"'ow on earth is that a _reflex?_" I sat down across from him and crossed my arms. "You see my walking down a hallway, and you ask who I am. Then you split my skull in two. Sounds like the planning of a madman."

"What can I say? I'm sorry man. You're lucky it wasn't the soldier. His shovel hurts a lot more than my bat." He took a bite out of a sandwich. "Hey, you lived, so don't worry about it!"

Now, I might've said something sarcastic right then, but I was suddenly seized with an urge to say something else. "That's not your sandwich."

"Hey, you're right. It's Heavy's," he babbled. "Not like he cares. Or maybe it's 'cause he doesn't know who took it, and just forgets about it later?"

Deciding to go with my theory that they were all insane, I made my way to the fridge for a drink. Getting hit in the head makes you surprisingly thirsty. Or perhaps that's just me. The fridge was full of cartons of milk, random half-empty ketchup bottles, and some strange purple cans. Curious, I reached for one.

Scout looked at me nervously. "Uh, you don't wanna drink that."

"And why should I listen to you?" I asked mulishly. I popped the tab and drained half the can in a couple of gulps. There was a pleasant, sweet taste to it. It fizzed in the back of my throat, before sliding down my throat. It seemed to continue bubbling all the way down into my stomach, and I felt as though it continued to froth in my stomach. Everything seemed to become razor-sharp in my mind. It occurred to me that it would hurt quite a bit if I slipped my knife into the area just above the ribs….

Scout smirked, and then made his way over. With a flourish, he gently punched my shoulder.

"GAH!"

I rubbed my shoulder. It felt as though Scout had shot me in the arm!

"That was Crit-a-Cola man, and until it wears off in a minute or two, you are gonna_ hurt_," he said. "I don't usually use it in fighting."

"Ugh," was my reply. I doubled over, clutching at my stomach. Was there a nest of ants in there? "'ow on earth do you-_hic! _Drink this stuff?"

The Scout considered my question. That is, he considered however much his obviously pea-sized brain could handle. Then his eyes lit up. "Hey! You're not wearing your mask!"

Congratulations, genius. Did you figure that out all by yourself? And guess what? You didn't answer my question!

Scout leaned over and clapped me on the shoulder. "Maybe you'll be better then da last guy!"

"OW!"

"Heh. Sorry."

When my shoulder recovered, Scout gave me the grand tour. All the soldiers had their own room, which they usually kept locked. Most of them were customized. Scout said they usually made their room reflect their jobs.

"Like pyro. His walls are pink. And he's got these stuffed unicorns in his closet."

"And 'ow exactly does that suit a pyro?"

"How exactly does a box full of Michael Jackson pictures suit a demoman?"

"It doesn't."

"Exactly."

As we headed towards the spy room, he seemed oddly excited.

"I've never been inside," he explained when I looked at him quizzically. Seems the boy has a tendency to be everywhere. Heaven forbid he hasn't seen the last spy's darkest secrets. "The last guy always locked the door."

"Oh, I will as well," I said darkly. Scout's presence made me uncomfortable when I thought about doors.

Inside, against the far corner, there was a neat bed. A large poster was plastered to the wall. It said, "Uncloak and Dagger". A gift from my incinerated predecessor. A small bathroom was visible in the other corner.

Scout glanced at it. His eyes widened. "Aw, lucky! You got your own bathroom! That explains why the last spy was never in the shower room."

That was fine by me. I'd rather not deal with the other team members all the time, even if just during the showers. Suddenly a question popped into my head.

"I 'ear the pyro ne'er takes 'is mask off. Is that true?"

"Yeah. Freaky. Don't worry about him. He rarely burns his teammates."

_"Rarely?"_

"Don't worry about it."

I stood up wearily. After having my head cracked open by this brat, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do. Rest sounded great. However, it seemed…prudent, to introduce myself.

I followed the scout out. The building was showing the wear that resulted from housing its residents. There were scorch marks on some of the walls. Others had bullet-holes in the shapes of faces or in one case, a large 'X'. We also passed by a REC room and a living room of sorts, but it looks like the kitchen is the main hub of activity.

I was right. Everyone was in the kitchen, not necessarily to eat, but to chatter. Pyro stood at the stove, making funny noises through his mask.

"Is he trying to talk?" I whispered to Scout.

"Naw. He's whistling."

"HELLO SPY MAN!" a voice boomed. I winced, turning away from the 'humming' pyro and coming fact to face with heavy. The man towered over me, grinning.

"Er, 'allo," I mumbled. After a bone-crushing hand shake, I turned away and found myself being glared at by soldier. I think he was glaring, anyway. I can't really see his eyes. "And-uh-hi? I am the new spy. You're the soldier?"

"You will call me 'sir'!" he roared. I swear he was louder than the heavy. What is with these men?

"Ah, of course, er, sir."

"You better be better than our last guy!" he screamed. Did his vocal chords have a vendetta against me? "He was all 'I am French and educated!' he didn't speak to any of us, the bastard!"

_Why would anyone want to speak with you?_ I wondered.

"Er, of course, my friend, I, um, will be more communicative," I muttered. "Sir."

"Hmph." Soldier stalked away, shoving a cigar in his mouth as he did. All helmet no brains, I think.

Sniper and Engineer sat at a table, sipping coffee. Sniper was fiddling with a very familiar cloaking watch. Mine, or rather, my predecessor's copy of the cloak & dagger. "Um, excusez moi, but isn't that a spy watch?"

"You got one don't you?" he snapped, glaring at me. I asked a question…no need to bite my head off….

"Yes, but, isn't that…how'd you get it?"

"Took it," he grunted. Not so talkative, this one.

"From?" I prompted.

"You. You weren't using it."

"I doubt it works," I insisted. "It might be broken."

"I wanted it anyway," he said. A dangerous gleam entered his eyes. "Problem, guy?"

Scout stepped in. "Woah, woah woah! Calm down, guys! Hey spy, er, that's pyro, and engie, and well, you met heavy."

Pyro said something unintelligible and shook my hand. My hand came away covered in ash, which I stupidly wiped on my pristine suit. It's going to take hours to wash out….

Engineer had his head down, examining blueprints. He looked up. "Hey spah," he said. Funny accent. A true Texan. "Nice t'meet'cha."

"You too," I mumbled. Let's see…I only have to meet demoman, and then this tiresome introduction is over.

It turns out meeting demoman would not actually be possible, as I he was too drunk to do a thing. With that knowledge, I decided to quit for the day. Just talking to these people made my head hurt.

I flopped down onto the bed, not bothering to remove my suit. What a day. So this was my new home for 2 thirds of a year. Not bad, if the people all got brain transplants.

Yeah….

"Hoo-OOOF!"

As if getting my skull split in half wasn't good enough, something heavy sank into my stomach. On instinct, I threw a punch, my fist colliding with something rather solid.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"Scout?" I groaned, shoving the weight off me. The door! I forgot to lock the door!

"Idiot! Were you trying to kill me?" I wheezed. "What the 'ell are you doing in 'ere!" I squinted angrily at the window. "It's still dark out!"

"Sorry man. What can I say? You didn't lock your door."

"Tu me peles le jonc," I grumbled.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"'You get on my nerves', is a decent translation," I grumbled, pulling on my shirt. I glared at him blearily. "Is anyone else up?"

"Nope. Heavy gets up in half an hour. Now get up," he chirped, drifting off to the kitchen.

"It's way too early," I groaned.

"Just go with it," he said soothingly. Then he shrugged. "When heavy gets up, there won't be any food left. You can starve if you want. Most of the others stockpile food in their rooms so they don't have to get up…but then, we have rats, so yeah…."

Groaning, I followed. "Fine. But why are you being nice? Virtually everyone else is…hostile to me," I asked warily.

He glanced back. "Is it a bad thing to be ncie t' ya?"

"No, no, but-"

"Then shut up and go with it," he growled. "Now lower your voice, or heavy'll get up. Then you can have fun being hungry."

I suppose the kitchen is REC room 2.0 or something, since there are even weapons stored in there. (And on an unrelated note, half a pool cue in the freezer. There is also an 8-ball in the trash bin, but whenever the bin is emptied, the 8-ball stays behind. Strange.)

"Hey French guy? Make something will you?" he said, sitting down and leaning back, hands clasped behind his head. "The stove is tricky."

I looked at the stove. There was an 'on' button and a dial. The scout can't possibly not know how…oh wait. He's stupid.

"Oh yeah, there is someone who gets up early. Medic. Up at five, asleep at ten. Always playing around in his lab. I don't think he eats. Maybe he's a vampire? When he first joined, he spent all day avoiding me. Weird," Scout mused.

"Maybe it is because you cracked his skull open," I replied, cracking an egg open. "Do you mind if the eggs are burned? And do you mind if I put arsenic in your portion?"

"Don't be mad…."

"The medic and I both have reasons to be _very_ mad."

"Yeah, well, the medic is crazy."

"As are you."

"My dad always said there was nothing wrong with being a li'l crazy."

"What was your dad's job?"

"He was a spy here."

"That explains everything."

"Whatever. I wanna show you something later. It should help, since you're a spy.

"It's a little entrance to the red base. A small air duct. The bases are like completely the same, except for that little duct. Weird," he said with a small smile.

"Maybe a mistake," I said, tossing him a plate of eggs. "Besides, why do you care? You 'ardly seem the type to pay attention to details. You probably have the attention span of a goldfish."

"Just 'cause I'm a scout?" he said, affecting to look affronted. "That's not-this egg is burned right over here…."

Point proven.

Before anymore sarcastic comments could be launched, though, heavy footsteps began to emanate from the hall, followed by a rumbling humming sound.

"Oh, crap," Scout said. "It's heavy. Let's go!"

He yanked me out the other exit, and led me straight towards the main grate. "We have to walk across the battlefield, so be quiet."

"You should look in a mirror when you say that."

Our feet made little noise in the soft dirt and sand. I ran over pieces of rail, vaulted over small makeshift barriers. The distance, I realized, was massive. At full speed, it would probably take an average man five minutes to reach the other side.

The sun, which had begun to only just rise, shone a dull orange glare over us. At last we reached the red base, which as Scout said, was identical. Identical, that is, except for the small metal grate on the wall, barely visible behind a curtain of scraggly moss.

Scout shifted the grate aside, and motioned for us to climb in. He shut it behind us, and near-complete darkness plunged over us. Dust tickled my nose, and I barely fought down the urge to sneeze. Then, we began to crawl.

It seemed to go on for eternity, the path. Dark metal walls hemmed me in on all sides. I'd never been claustrophobic, but even now I felt somewhat suffocated. Then, a faint light began to show around a corner.

Scout shoved out the next grate, and I winced as it slammed into the ground with a loud _clang!_

I hope nobody heard-

"Scout? Is that you?"

As the Americans are fond of saying, _shit!_

I was fairly certain it was the red engineer, so I made sure to disguise as someone else. The red scout should do.

I pulled out my PDA, and disguised as red scout. Shoving our scout back into the duct and pulling the grate over him, I strode cautiously into the kitchen. I mentally tried to align myself with the image of a teenage brat.

"Uh, *ahem*, hey man, engie, what's up?" I said, trying to make my voice not shake.

"Thought you were asleep jes' now!" red engineer said with a yawn. "Fast bugger, aintcha? Anyway, ah heard the blues git a new spah soon. Yah heard anything about that?"

"Nope," I said confidently. "They didn't yet. I overheard them complaining and stuff."

"Alright," the man said, sipping some coffee.

"I'll be goin' now," I said slowly, easing out of the room. "Adieu."

"'Adieu'? Ya' learning from spah?"

"Maybe," I said plainly. "Anyway, gotta go."

By sheer accident, I let my voice drop to the thicker French accent I normally speak with.

"Got something stuck in your throat?"

"Nah, sorry," I said quickly in scout's voice. I fled, but not before I saw the engineer yank his pistol out of his holster.

"Hold it right th-"

With practiced ease, I drew my revolver and in one smooth action, blew a hole in the engineer's collar region. The bullet's impact caused the man to spin 180 degrees before crumpling.

"About face," I joked darkly, and then hurried back to the air duct.

Halfway across the field, a loud alarm blared.

"What's that?" I said, head snapping up to look at the mounted speakers.

"Combat's starting in five minutes," Scout said uneasily. His eyes scanned the area. "Let's hurry back."

I blinked. "Scout…" I said as a random thought seized me.

"Yeah?" he asked, loading up his scattergun. "What?"

"'ow long 'ave you been 'ere?"

"A year."

"'ow long was your contract?" I asked, now quite curious.

"Six months," he replied, before dragging me through the grate. The sniper, silent as a wraith, slipped out past us without a word.

"I'm twenty now," he said inconsequentially. He pointed towards the red side, to an unattended turret. "You did pretty good with that engie."

I looked at the abandoned second-stage turret. There was a first-stage dispenser by it. The engineer must've already placed it, but been too injured to continue upgrading, and went inside. The medic wasn't visible, so I assumed he was helping the red engineer. The rest of the red team was lined up outside, though, and they looked formidable.

I grimaced. The red team looked like monsters. Some were evidently taller than the blue team counterparts. I seriously doubted our team was up to bat. Their soldier was taller. Their heavy was buffer. Or maybe I'm imagining things.

Scout looked at me. "Something wrong?"

"Nothing," I grunted. Even as I said that, another alarm rang.

With a tremendous roar, both sides took off at each other, screaming curses and waving weapons. I saw the medic trailing the soldier, and I watched in confusion. I was fairly certain medics are most useful when healing heavies…the medic can't keep up with soldier's rocket jumps.

Oh.

As soldier shot into the air, the medic's strange medigun let off a yellow glow. Energy traveled down to the soles of medic's boots, creating an explosion of pale orange light. Medic flew into the air after soldier.

Scout caught my confused expression and grinned.

"It's a special medigun. He called it a protoss…er, proton…proturtine?"

"You mean 'prototype'?"

"Yeah, dat." The boy chugged down a can of yellow soda and shrugged. "Whatever." In a blur, he was off, moving at an insane speed. I watched in surprise as a rocket came at him, and seemed to pass right through him.

Where can I get a drink like that?

A grenade exploded to my side, shoving me a little to the left. Someone shouted, 'Spy!'.

Taking that to be my queue to begin, I cloaked and dashed towards the red base. The sentry twisted to me, but I stood stock still as my cloak was on the verge of running out. The sentry ignored me as I flickered completely out of sight.

I love these cloaking watches. Now disguised as the sniper, I uncloaked and slapped the sapper on. Peace of cake, as the Americans say.

The moment I thought that, I stood still for a moment, waiting for a cake to materialize. Nothing happened. Those Americans are crazy.

I stood there, watching as the slowly sagged, and then fell apart. Slinking away, I changed my disguise to the red medic and crept into the red base. The red heavy stood inside, and spun up his minigun when he saw me. He squinted at me, and I remained still, waiting nervously for him to shoot me, until he slowly lifted his minigun and turned away. Thank goodness for the simple-mindedness of heavies.

Wasting no movements, I lunged forward and plunged my blade deep into the man's back, driving it right through a lung and no doubt into the heart. The hulking soldier let out a roar of pain, but did not die instantly. Rather, a red light suffused him, and he straightened immediately. What the hell? I swear I got him!

Oh.

The red medic stood a few feet away, medigun trained on the Russian. That mysterious light flowed over the heavy. So this is the extent of what mediguns can do…I suppose I underestimated the medic.

I didn't actually read the medic class files sent to me, because I'd considered it an inferior and useless position. I suppose that's why I was confused when the heavy and medic both became bathed in a solid red tinge, looking for all the world to be made of molten metal. Oh-my bullet bounced off them too.

Curse me and my superiority complex.

I fled deeper into the base, frantically flipping out my cloaking watch. The red pyro materialized out of a corridor, though, and swung his axe into my gut. My knife flew down and deflected the worst of it, though the knife's blade still cut me. I collapsed, choking and wheezing, before lying still. All fine and dandy, but I wasn't dead.

My gut just hurt like hell.

My act probably impressed the pyro(I am such a wonderful actor.), and he just sort of walked away, whistling.

The red heavy and medic had a short conversation with the pyro, before hurrying out. I saw the red medic give me a strange, calculating look before he left. That's one to watch out for, weakness be damned.

My knife was covered in my own blood, which I quickly wiped on my suit. My intestines might be cut.

Where's a medic when you need one?

I find I couldn't get up. A fiery pain lanced through my thighs when I tried to move, and my waist felt like it had no muscles. I was forced to crawl in a humiliating manner into the intel room. I had the foresight to disguise myself as the red sniper before I did.

Good thing, too, since the red engineer had set up all his gear in the intel room. It made sense, seeing as he was injured. The wound had been sealed by the medigun, but it was probably very sore. The man sat on an upturned crate, staring idly at his sentry. I walked in, hands held up in a gesture of peace.

"What's wrong, sniper?"

"Problems out there mate. Got a bullet in moi gut. Ya' seen the doc anywhere?"

The red engineer shook his head. "He's probably out there with the heavy."

"Damn. Oi, move over." I sat down by the engineer, letting the dispenser runs its cool red rays over me. My heart beat furiously. What if he got suspicious. "Whoi are ye' down here, mate?"

"Bullet in mah shoulder. Healed, but it still hurts." The man adjusted his helmet. "Anyway, what do yer' think of the new doc?"

"Bit…of a mongrel," I said. This wasn't a lie. He really did seem weak.

"Have to agree," the engineer said tiredly.

"I'm pretty sure my grandma could out-wrestle him," I ventured.

"Your grandma could out-wrestle a bull, so that don't say much." The engineer looked glumly at the sentry. "Ah hate this."

"Eh?"

"Don't'cha get bored o' this? The killing and whatnot. It's not even real war. It's like a sick, twisted game."

I let myself fall silent, contemplating his words. "Well…it is a moight strange…."

"Whatever. Shouldn't you be getting out to the battlefield now?"

"Oui," I said in French. "Unfortunately, I can't do that."

I swung a sapper, latching it onto the sentry. The engineer let out an almost inhuman snarl. "YOU!"

He swung his wrench, which I just noticed had spikes on it. Spikes?

His wrench caught me on the side of the head, but with sheer will, I dragged my revolver level to his head. If only I got to pull the trigger.

The engineer ducked, swinging his wrench in an arc. It slammed into the sapper, tearing it off in one clean blow. The sentry turned to me, and within seconds, the world faded black.

The red infirmary smells faintly of strawberries. That I can tell you.

What I can't tell you is why the red medic gently woke me and helped me escape out the window.

AN: This is re-write chapter 1.


	2. Chapter 2: It's Been a While

AN:

Some chemicals that may be mentioned in this story may not be portrayed in their actual material state, use, or function…The spy has now joined up in blue team. Tell me what you think of his story so far. Also, I've planted a character that represents me…guess who it is. Thanks for the encouragement, CrazyGirlMe.

"Merde," I murmured. I sat on my bed and stared at my cloaking watch blankly. I was vaguely aware someone was calling my name. The cloak† watch I had been using for a week now was broken. The screen glowed blue and had a crack across its length. "Now what?" I grumbled, running my fingers over the crack.

"Spy!"

"This watch is the only one I have…"

"Frenchie! Spy! Crouton!"

"…maybe engineer can fix it?"

"SPY! WAKE UP AND ANSWER ME, SOLDIER!"

I leapt up off my bed, dropping the watch in alarm. There was a dent on my metal door, somewhat in the shape of a shovel. Oh, of course. Soldier. He _would_ be up at midnight, banging on _my_ door as I stared at my ruined watch. Are all Americans like this? I certainly hope not. I will never set foot in America. Ever. Well, maybe if you paid me…a few thousand dollars should do it. Make that a few million.

Sighing, I opened the door. Soldier was there, in full uniform and with his helmet drawn over his eyes. I think he was glaring at me. I can never tell. You just sort of stare at his mouth and guess his expression, but his mouth can mean anything from "You've been promoted, private twinkle toes." to "I'm going to mail your ass to Russia. Without the rest of your body."

"Listen, when I say open up, OPEN UP!" he roared. From his roaring mouth spittle flew, and the disgusting material landed on my mask.

He shoved me into the war room, a.k.a meeting room, and shut the door. He pointed at the far wall. Hurrying over, the man jabbed his finger at one point. I realized it was a map of the red base.

"Get the red buggers through here! You enter their sleeping quarters in the morning when war starts, and get behind them! Then, you cut their throats!"

"Soldier," I said, exasperated. "It is midnight."

"DOES THAT MATTER?! A good soldier NEVER SLEEPS!" he retorted. Loudly. Good lord, how has he not coughed up his lungs?

He pushed me into a seat and returned to the front. "Pay attention, crouton!"

Do you know why I dislike soldier? I'm going to give you three guesses. And the first two don't count.

I was not going to be able to wake up tomorrow if I stayed with this fanatic. I had to get away.

"Soldier," I said hesitantly. "Eet ees 01 hours. I have to rest, um, sir, or I cannot carry out your plans tomorrow."

"Hmph. Fine, get yourself in bed, soldier, but BE UP BY SIX!" he screamed. Then, he sat down in a chair, and fell asleep right there. His snores filled the room.

I looked at him incredulously. Was that the man who had just dragged me out of my room two minutes ago? I went over to his sleeping form, with a marker I found on the table. I checked that he really was asleep by muttering a few insults in his ear. He was out like a light.

This was childish, but I was sleep-deprived and angry. I scribbled a mustache on his face, and then circles around his eyes, linking them to resemble glasses. Then, I wrote "idiot" on his back. With that finishing touch, I set the pen in my pocket and went to my room. A brief shower, pulling on a pair of night clothes, and blissful, blissful sleep came. Blissful sleep, my arse.

I had a nightmare. A very…disturbing one. I opened my eyes and felt that odd, blurry sensation you got when you were in a dream. It was realistic, but not realistic. Your mind didn't think. I have read stories where the characters were "aware" that this was a dream, but in a dream, that doesn't actually happen. Your mind is not really awake. These are images taken from the depths of your mind.

I was standing in a thick, blank fog. Whiteness swirled around me. Then, I felt burning. It wasn't really like burning, more like tickling. I looked down to see flames licking at my feet, eating at my legs. I was on fire. Why couldn't I move? I was frozen! Let me out! I'm burning! I'm-

I awoke. It was about five-thirty. I recognized scout's voice coming through the door.

"Hey, snake-guy! Get up!"

Snake guy? Was that my new name?

"I am up," I muttered. He didn't quite hear me, and knocked loudly on my door. At least I'd locked it last night, so he couldn't attempt to crush my stomach this morning.

Rapidly donning a suit, I joined scout in the corridor. He looked strangely tired, and was rubbing sleep out of his eyes. However, he lit up when I came out.

"Hey, you're up! Let's go eat. Make me bacon again. Yesterday, medic made me bacon, and then when I'd eaten half of it, he told me he added chemicals that were supposed to make me run faster. Then the creep said side-effects include vomiting, dizziness, and a whole lot of other shit."

I nodded as scout ranted, and went to the kitchen. There, I sat down and put my head on the table. I was tired. Too tired.

Scout sat across from me, looking at me expectantly, with wide eyes. I groaned. How can a brat like him still be able to make, what was it Americans said, "puppy dog eyes"? Well, now I'd make the bacon. And he'd eat it. Then he'd ramble until war time. How comforting to have a schedule.

After I finished preparing the food, I followed scout to his room. Inside, a couple of posters stuck to the wall, portraying, er, bad things. I'll leave it at that.

It was generally a mess, but I kind of expected it.

"This, this is your room?" I asked, looking around. A pointless question. I asked it. So sue me. "It looks, ah, good."

He grinned. "Thanks man! Check this out." He pointed to a bat. His bat. What was so remarkable.

"Uh, what is it?" I asked. "Isn't that just your bat?"

"No, it's the sandman! Made of wood, see?!" he said, holding up the object for me to examine.

"Okay," I agreed. As far as I was concerned, it was just a bat, even if it was named bogeyman it would still be a bat.

He seemed frustrated at my lack of understanding. "But it's the _sandman! How can you not care?!_"

Somehow, he seemed genuinely sad. Over the fact I wasn't admiring his bat? What? "Er, it is a magnificent thing. A, um, good bat." I wasn't sure. How do you compliment a stick you hit baseballs with?

He sighed, and then set the bat down. He checked his Lugermorph and threw me a sideways look.

"I saw your watch," he said. "How'd it get broken?"

"Yesterday," I explained, "The red scout smacked me with his bat, the filthy idiot. I brought my hand up to stop a second blow and he destroyed me watch!"

"Wow. See if engie can fix it. He fixes almost anything. Except limbs. He says medic is the only one crazy enough to fix that," scout chirped. Good to see _someone_ was cheerful.

He hauled me out of the room, pulling me to the war room. "Let's see if soldier is in there. His room is full of bombs, so he usually sleeps here."

I nodded tiredly. As scout pushed open the door, he clapped a hand over his mouth and stifled a laugh. Of course, soldier still bore the markings of when he'd dragged me out of my room last night. Or morning, really. It had been past midnight.

Scout crept over and looked up at me. "Did you do this?"

"Well, yes."

"Dude! You actually did this? Soldier is going to break you into fifty pieces with his bare hands."

"It is just markings from a marker. 'e is fine," I grumbled.

"This stuff will take a while to get off," scout said, examining the snoring soldier's face. "A while."

"It is not permanent marker."

"Really?"

"Non, it will come off."

"'kay. Now let's see how the others react," scout said, leading me out and shutting the door behind him. "Let's go to the med bay."

"I thought you would avoid that place?"

He shrugged. "When you catch medic in the morning, he's too tired to bother thinking. He'll say yes to almost anything. I asked him for his chocolate. Did you know he has jars of it? He loves the stuff. He's got milk chocolate, mint, dark(EW!), and all that. He was half-asleep. He said yes. I wonder if he sleeps at all?"

"You are evil," I grunted. We pushed open the doors to the med bay. Medic lay on one of the beds patients usually lay on. There were shadows under his eyes, and there was a clipboard on the ground by the bed. It seemed he'd fallen asleep while working. Compared to the guy from my first day here, he seemed almost defenseless. So much for scary mad doctor, eh?

Scout walked past him, setting his feet down lightly. "Quiet," he hissed. "That guy always has nightmares, so he wakes up really easy. You so much as wave a hand over his eyes, he'll wake up."

"Nightmares?" I asked.

"Yeah. The guy suffers from some kind of brain activity thing. He can't rest his head, so he always has headaches. I almost feel sorry for him, but he usually has a syringe in his hand, so I never say that," scout replied.

I felt sorry for the medic then. I saw scout sneaking a jar of chocolate off the medic's desk.

Medic wakes up easily. When scout drew in a loud breath, he bolted upright, yelling something in German. He stood up, whipping out a syringe gun and pointing it at us with bloodshot eyes. Scary.

"Woah! Calm down, doc!" scout said. He'd hid the jar behind his back. "No need to fill us with syringes."

"Vhat do you vant?" he growled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Uh, painkillers. For, um, headaches. Spy needs them," scout lied. Medic normally would have questioned this blatant lie, but evidently, the man was too tired to care about anything.

"Oh, ah, yes, yes. Just take these and get out. Mild painkillers. One every six hours. Any more than that and the chemicals gamma-aminobutyric acid will knock you out and paralyze you for an hour." With that instruction, he tossed me a box of the drugs, and then slumped over falling asleep in sitting position, head lolling on his chest. This explains why he is always up early. His brain cannot rest. I pity him.

Scout and I left, with a jar of chocolate and a box of painkillers.

"Ha! I got the chocolate," scout crowed.

"Oui," I said somberly, "and medic lost some precious minutes of sleep, considering he's got that insomniac problem."

Scout glanced at me. "Sorry," he muttered. "Not like it'll matter. He always acts fine out on the field." With that apology(was it an apology?) he popped a milk chocolate in his mouth. "Actually," he said. "The chocolate might be to keep him awake, y'know? Maybe he needs the sugar."

"Oui, and all the more reason not to take the stuff," I replied. "'e is not so bad, I suppose. 'e just needs more rest."

"Did you hear me, spy guy? He CAN'T sleep properly. So no problem," scout said. No guilt at all, this one. "I kinda feel sorry for him. But it doesn't matter. Let's go. Combat begins at nine."

"You know, I wonder how you are still on this team," I said. I took one of the chocolates and bit into it. Delicious. It was rich, creamy, and flavorful. The taste of it-er, back to the point. I couldn't blame scout for liking it. "You finish off the lot of eet all the time?"

"Nah," he said, swallowing another chocolate. "I give half of it to heavy. He loves it too."

"Has medic done anything about it?"

"Nope. He's too tired to confront me. When you catch him when he's tired, not only will he say yes to almost anything, he's creepily nice. Like, I mean, fuck, he never smiles. Except when he's tired. Creepy."

I resolved to do a little research on our team's medic.

Five pm. Cease-fire time. I staggered back to my room. I'd not managed to kill anyone, just save scout. Again. I wasn't even near the turret, but scout had run out in front of it and I'd leapt towards it and slapped the sapper on just in time. He was so reckless! He grabbed the intelligence, but I was left trying to get away from the engineer, who started bludgeoning me with his wrench. There were now several wrench-shaped bruises on my back. I hadn't seen the medic all day, except when I was coming in after cease-fire. He was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall of a corridor, sleeping. I'd let him be.

In my room, I showered and removed my bloodied suit. The red soldier had filled my right arm full of shotgun pellets, and blood stained the clothing. Luckily, engineer was around, and had helped me yank out the pellets. His dispenser then got me back on my feet, although the dispenser's rays cause an uncomfortable crawling sensation on your skin, unlike the medi-gun. I worried for medic.

I sank down onto my bed after getting on another suit. My head pounded with headaches. The red scout had given me a good whack on the head. It was…painful.

Scout came in without invitation. Of course. He sat down on the bed by me, rubbing a bruised hand.

"Hey, watcha doin'?" he chattered.

"Nothing. Sitting here and contemplating."

"Boooring. Seriously. Get up and do somethin'!"

"Like what, mon friend?" I asked sarcastically.

"Like-like-oh, _I_ don't know, what do spy's do for fun, huh?"

"I'm a human, not a clone. I have my own interests," I grumbled.

"Like what? You an artist? You jog? Maybe you're gay? What?" scout asked, prodding me with his finger.

"You annoy me, and very much so, souris," I grumbled.

"What the shit does that mean?"

"'Souris' means either mouse or rat. Perfect for you. Or you could be a little bunny. Fast enough for that," I replied.

"Slow down! Next you'll say I eat rainbows for breakfast!"

"Do rainbows make you cry?" I teased.

He glared at me and stomped out of the room. I left as well, looking for the med bay to fix up this horrific bruise. It hurt like hell, and was going to bug me when I lay down to sleep.

The medic was in the medical bay, lucky for me. He was slumped over on his desk, snoring lightly. When I tapped his shoulder, his hand whipped up and slapped my face.

"Oh!" he cried, noticing me. "S-Sorry, I vas tired, and, vell, I reacted on instinct. You surprised me."

"Er, it's alright. Fix up my back, s'il vous plait?" I pleaded.

"Oh, what happened to you?" he asked, standing. He swayed alarmingly, then steadied himself. "Show me your back."

I removed my suit and he examined the bruises. "Quite bad," he said, frowning. "I vill get my medi-gun. It will take about six minutes for it to heal up properly." He strode over to one corner of the bay and picked up his medi-gun. Then, he flicked it on and healing rays washed over me. All my pain vanished.

I closed my eyes and sighed. "Thank you."

"You're velcome," the medic said. I opened my eyes to find that his own were closing. He shook his head and his head snapped up. He continued to keep the medi-gun on as he went to his desk. "Vhere vere zhe chocolates? I svear zey vere here…."

Guilt is an interesting thing. I have rarely felt it before. I felt guilt. "Um," I stuttered. "Scout took it."

"Oh yes," he remarked dryly. "I remember. I do not recall why *yawn* I handed it off to him. Zhat vas stupid of me,"

He sank down onto a bed, eyes half open. I hope he didn't fall asleep. Fortunately, he remained awake long enough to heal the bruise, and then dozed off. Outside, I remembered that I needed to get my watch to engineer. It was still broken.

I left the sleeping medic and made my way to the engineer's room. I knocked a couple of times, and I heard his voice tell me to come in. I entered, and looked around. Engineer sat on the ground, fiddling with his turret.

"If I can get a spring loader here…might increase bullet velocity…but there's an energy pack?"

"Er, 'ello?" I cut in. He looked up.

"Hey, spah. What do ya need?"

"My cloaking watch is broken. Can you fix it, please?" I asked. I held out the ruined watch. There was a comical sad face on the luminous screen.

Engineer took the device and turned it over in his hands. "Well," he began. "You cracked the screen, but it looks like you severed a couple of wires too. What did you do to it?"

"Not on purpose, the red scout batted it," I answered.

"Looks pretty intact, which is a good thing. I'll have it to you by tomorrow. Sound good?"

"Yes," I said, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

He nodded. "Now if you would, please leave me alone. I work kinda best when nobody's botherin' me." His face darkened. "Don't be like scout."

"O-okay," I said, creeping out and shutting the door behind me. I saw the blue heavy coming down the hall, humming a rough tune. He spotted me, and hurried over, boots clomping.

"Tiny spy! Is good to see you! I saw you visit doctor. You are okay?"

"Yes, heavy, I am," I replied. He wasn't exactly dumb. I think his English was choppy from his Russian upbringing. Or maybe he was actually really that dumb. Hmm.

Heavy gripped me in his version of a bear hug, which would have been a monster hug for any other being. Moments later, I felt/heard a crack, followed by a snap, another crack, and the sensation of something fragmenting in my chest.

"'eavy!" I gasped. "P-put me down, p-please!" He set me down and frowned comically.

"Tiny man is weak as twig! I hear cracks!" he rumbled.

Yes, you fool! You heard cracks! My rib cracks! I sense a pun here somewhere. I better get that outta my head.

"I-I am fine," I wheezed. "Adieu!"

I staggered away, back into the medical bay. Medic was up, searching one of his cabinets for chocolate. When he located a piece of white chocolate, he scarfed it down and stood up a little taller, suddenly more alert. He glanced around back to me as I entered.

"Vhat have you done to yourself in zhe short span of five minutes?" he asked incredulously. "Vhy are you back so soon?"

"H-heavy, I think, 'e 'as crushed certain…things," I said.

Medic snorted, then picked up his medi-gun. He shot the ray at me, and my ribs felt better.

"Zhat okay?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," I said, backing out. I bumped into scout along the corridor, quite literally. I slammed into scout coming around a corner and we both toppled back, steadying ourselves against the wall.

"Dude!" scout growled. "What the fuck?"

"Quite a mouth you have," I said. He snorted and shoved past me.

"Why are you so pissed?" I asked .

He glared at me.

"It wasn't about the rainbow joke, was it?" I inquired cautiously. Dangerous ground here. Scout's temper was like a field of land mines.

He spun around and glared at me.

"I'm sorry," I said weakly.

A grin spread across his face, and he clapped a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, it's all cool!" he said.

What?

"I just got sort of annoyed at you," he babbled, pulling me on down the corridor.

What?

"Anyhow, follow me!"

I really don't understand scout sometimes. Make that all the time. And make that the entire team that I don't understand.

Sighing, I let scout drag me to the kitchen. There, I saw demo and sniper eating. It was about six. Scout sat down and began eating something sludgy out of a bowl. I wasn't hungry, so I sat down and glanced at demo. He was missing an eye, but I wondered why medic could not replace it.

Demo looked at me. "How are ya'? Haven't see ya' around lately, lad. I cannae remember the last time ah saw a spy on our side!"

Sniper remained cold and impassive. What was his problem? The whole week, he had only said, "Go away" and "Go backstab that guy. I can't hit him from here".

I turned to scout. "Did medic really bring all that chocolate with him when he came?"

He shook his head. "Nah, medic's are allowed to place requests for stuff. So not fair! Still, I caught medic when he was half-asleep at his desk, and asked him to send for the sandman. When it arrived, doc forgot he even freaking ordered it! He orders the chocolate by the load, man." He slurped some more of the "stew". "I wish I could place orders. I want a Shortstop gun. I'll catch medic late at night, at like ten."

"'ou are taking advantage of him," I grumbled.

"So? Not like it matters to him!"

I shrugged and stood. I was about to leave with scout when sniper said something.

"Wait."

"Huh?" scout and I said simultaneously. "What?"

Sniper's eyes remained on his food. "The last spy," he muttered. "Had some gear you could use. Check out underneath the bed." Then he was silent.

Demo looked at me and shrugged, and scout dragged me (scout, I can move by myself, thank you very much!) to my room. Then, he crouched and looked under my bed.

"Hey!" he cried out. His hand snaked under the bed and he drew out a box. It was somewhat dusty, and resembled a black shoebow. "What's this?"

"I don't know," I said amicably. "You tell me."

He pried off the lid and drew out a few items. A rusty knife, a golden watch, a ambassador revolver, and a grenade.

"Woah!" he said, tapping the watch with the grenade. "Shiny!"

"Are 'ou a bird?" I asked sarcastically. "Since birds are drawn to shiny things. And stop tapping the watch with the grenade. You'll blow off your hand!"

"Nah, stop worrying! You worry too much," he said, now playing with the safety on the grenade. His fingers laced around the end of it, and he almost unconsciously pulled it out. "Hey, the safety came out easy."

Then, he dropped it.

"Oops."

It burst open, creating a massive shock wave that shoved me against the wall. Scout tumbled back, flailing. Multi-colored strips flew out of it. Confetti?

"No. Freaking. Way." Scout said, picking pieces of colored string from his hair. "What the hell?"

Soldier burst into the room screaming some kind of battle cry. I think it was something like "Maggots!" what kind of battle cry is that?

He looked around. "What are you men doing? Celebrating some kind of birthday?" he roared. "THIS IS NO TIME FOR FUN AND GAMES!"

With that loud proclamation he stormed from the room, muttering darkly about commies and cake. I often spend a few minutes pondering how soldier is still alive, since he always babbles about dying for your country. On an unrelated note, I think Americans are crazy.

Scout burst out laughing, then swept confetti off his shirt.

"Like, what the hell was that?" he giggled. "That grenade was filled with…confetti!"

"Yes," I said tersely. "Well, and fine. I did warn you, and you dropped it! Now my room has been redecorated without my consent!"

"Stop talking to formally!" scout said. "It's funny. Now you got some color in your boring room!"

"…shut up."

Three days fly by, with somewhat pointless fighting. I begin to wonder what the purpose of all this is. Although, I've not had much peace time, since scout is always buzzing around me like a fly to a corpse (I hope that wasn't prophetic). I wonder why he sticks to me like tape? Medic has been strangely tired. He was tired before, but I saw him healing heavy while leaning against the wall, and he dozed off! He woke up when a bullet lodged itself in his arm.

I worry about demo, too. I really didn't talk to him much, but he has a habit of blowing up sticky bombs near him, usually taking out chunks of his own flesh. That may be the reason he always heads straight to the med bay after fights.

I am thinking of keeping scout off chocolate. He becomes hyperactive. Once, after he'd eaten about five bars of chocolate, he went crazy and started smashing all the stuff in the kitchen. When he calmed down, he went back to take more chocolate from medic, and when medic took a look at him, he tied scout down and took a blood sample. He proclaimed scout to have 3% sugar content in his cells. Bad.

Now, I was about to start daily combat. We'd relocated to a base down south for a payload delivery. The payload carts are filled with ore, I heard. I don't understand why they don't just get engineer to make jet engines for it. Then it'd go faster than the reds can shoot.

I was in no position to complain though. When engineer returned my watch, he'd said the carts were made of insanely heavy and thick metal so they can't be damaged.

It was cold out, and there was a thin layer of snow falling. I waited by our cart, sneezing every minute or so. The others were much the same, miserable and cold. Scout had a scarf, but kept his T-Shirt on despite the frigid winter chill.

"I still don't get why these things will only move when we're by them," sniper grumbled. I was taken aback to here him actually talk. I expected that the next time he actually opened his mouth a Neanderthal-like grunt would come out. "They have engines, and they're indestructible, dammit! What is with these things?"

Silence greeted his words. A speck of snow landed on my nose and melted. Another violent sneeze ensued. My breath formed a haze in front of me. Up ahead, I saw engineer by his sentry. He had a large fire going, and was warming himself by it. I decided that after I stabbed someone I'd go to that fire and sit back while engineer worked on his turret. Later I'd say I did something, so nothing was wrong.

That wouldn't work.

I went over to engineer and sat by his fire, sighing as warmth flitted over me. A dark expression flitted over engineer's face.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothin'. I just can't help but wonder wha the higher ups send us out here," he replied. Rubbing his hands, he welded a piece of metal to his sentry, causing it to vibrate and upgrade to third stage. There was a thin layer of frost and ice on it.

He saw me looking at the ice and shrugged. "See? It's so cold that there's ice on it, even though it's been here about ten minutes. Look. An icicle."

He pointed towards a tiny icicle forming under the turret's machine gun barrel. I smiled. Imagine if the sentry actually froze.

The speakers roared out, their voices uncharacteristically loud in the silent, cold air. The sky above was dark, although it was seven. Spotlights shown down on us, but they were feeble.

The war cries erupted from the mouths of my teammates as they charged forward. Battle lust was upon the heavy, soldier, and demo. The others were not so enthusiastic. Poor medic was really suffering under the cold air. Cold slows your blood, which makes you sleep. He was slumped over, but suddenly jolted upright, eyes clear. A strange grin spread across his face, and I found myself disturbed. The change was unsettling.

"It is cold. Wonderful," he murmured, in a quiet, gleeful tone. His now bright eyes darted to the backs of his teammates. He opened his mouth iand shouted a throaty war cry.

"Mach Schnell! Raus, RAUS!" He tore after the rest of the team, eyes gleaming. I looked at engineer, who wore a bemused expression.

"Now if that ain't the darndest thing ah've ever seen," he said. "Our medic always liked the cold. He bucks up whenever it's chilly. That part of him scares me, ya know?"

"Shouldn't you move the sentry?" I asked.

"Nope. There was some reds creeping around this side, I saw. They'll pop up any minute now."

True to word, the reds appeard. The red scout dropped down from an alcove above us. On the structure across from us, on the other side of the rails, a red soldier took shelter. He was being healed by a red medic.

The scout saw the turret, yelped, and ran. The red soldier ignored the sentry's rapid-fire attempts to kill him. He fired rockets down.

Drawing my ambassador, I fired an accurate shot at his head. Okay, fine, it wasn't as accurate as I'd hoped. The bullet was a little off, and hit his shoulder. He didn't even so much as flinch. The energy rays dove at the wound, pushing out the bullet and sealing the red flesh. A rocket blew up by my side. The blast tore at my flesh, tearing skin and causing red to splatter. Guess what red means? I'm bleeding! OH _GOOD!_

The turret exploded, and the engineer swore. He ran, firing a couple of shots before he left.

I cloaked, and the reds didn't notice me. Not an attentive lot, are they? I crept up the building and found the medic standing near the soldier, healing him.

"Vhere have zhey gone?" the medic asked.

The soldier grunted. "The engineer ran. The spy? Dunno."

"Mhm. Zhe schweinhund will appear later."

I crept up, cloaked. I stepped past the medic, but brushed against him. I swore mentally. Touching someone while cloak causes the cloak to flicker. The medic saw, and spun around.

"Achtung! Spy!" he shouted. The soldier whirled around, and came face to face with two medics, myself, and the genuine one. This was the medic I'd met on the train. I was reluctant to stab him, but at any rate, the soldier was glaring at us.

"Ze medic is a spy!" the medic and I roared at the same time.

The soldier looked at us two, and then stepped forward. I held my breath. He whacked the real medic with his shovel.

"YAH! Vhat vas zat for, Dummkopf?!" he yelled.

The soldier's shovel slammed into my chest, knocking me over.

"Gack! Vhat are you doing?!"

The soldier said, "Heal me."

Oh dear. I didn't have the actual medi-gun. The other medic whipped out his device and began healing. The soldier stared at me, then aimed his rocket launcher at my head.

I rolled, slamming into his shins and bowling him over. I lept out the window and fell down to the icy ground. My disguise vanished. "Merde."

Now was a good time to run. Feet slipping slightly, I headed off to my team, reloading my revolver as I did so. The engineer saw me. The rest of the team had already pushed the cart on, and engineer was constructing another turret.

"Spah! What happened?"

"The medic and soldier delayed me," I panted. Up ahead, I heard medic scream, "Los weiter!"

"Medic feeling better?" I said flatly.

"Quite. Doc ran past, and I swear he had fangs."

I shivered. He was scary in the cold, it seemed. I sat down heavily by the engineer's dispenser. The blue rays came over my bloodied arm, and I looked back where the reds were.

"The red medic's a new guy, right?" engineer asked, drumming his fingers on his thigh. "He arrived with ya."

"Yeah," I said. "I'm going to go see how the team is doing."

"Alright. When I get this turret up I'll pack up and follow," engineer said, turning his attention back to his turret.

I hurried off, putting on the pyro mask as I did so. It didn't hurt to take precautions. You never know.

I found my team members pushing the cart some two minutes walk north. The reds swarmed around them like ants, and I saw our medic surrounded and cut off. He hacked at a red scout, drawing a trickle of blood. He whipped out a syringe gun and buried syringes in a soldier's face, causing the man to stagger back, screaming in agony. The scout whacked the medic's arm, causing him to drop the bonesaw.

I couldn't watch this anymore. I ran forward angrily, and stabbed at the scout. He shifted at the last moment and caused me to miss. No!

Spinning around, he whacked my head. I heard a ringing noise in my ears. Pain reverberated in my skull, seeming to bounce off my skull's walls. I yelled and leapt backwards. Medic picked up his bonesaw from the icy dirt and shoved it into the back of scout's head. The end was blunt, so it only knocked out scout. The red soldier was still running around screaming, needles buried in his face and eyes. Blood leaked from the corners.

Our medic drew his medi-gun and uber-charged the heavy, who fired a stream of bullets at the reds attacking them.

The red demo launched a grenade that struck the heavy, exploding and throwing him back some feet. Fortunately, the uber-charge kept him alive, and he whacked the demo with "Sasha". That has got to hurt. How much does that gun weigh? A ton?

Somehow, red soldier was fine now, because he charged at me, face now syringeless, and smacked my ribs with a shovel. I choked, and blood flew out of my mouth.

Our soldier appeared right then, popping up from nowhere, and launching a rocket. In went straight into the red soldier's back, blowing him into a score of tiny, bloody red pieces.

"Yeugh," I muttered as body parts covered me. A swiped a piece of appendix off my shoulder.

"Thank you, I think," I said to soldier. He nodded.

"KEEP UP THE WORK, PRIVATE! Now GET MOVING!"

I ran off, cloaking as I went. I decloaked behind the red medic and stabbed at him. My hand stopped suddenly. I couldn't. I can't do this. The medic turned and froze at the sight of my face. We stared each other down for a moment, then he backed away, very slowly. I saw the red sniper's beam trail down to my chest, and looked up to see the sniper crouched at the top of a small tower.

The red medic tackled me, shoving me out of the bullet's way, and the sniper's round hit his side. He gasped, and clutched at the wound. Bleeding quite heavily, he shot a glance at me and stumbled away.

The sniper called down to me, voice riddled with contempt. "You got lucky, you snake! You know what you do with snakes? CUT THEIR BLOODY HEADS OFF!"

Taking aim once more, he let the dot trail to my head. I wasn't going to die yet. I ran, cloaking again, and hurried up the tower steps. I stood behind the sniper, knife ready. I didn't get a good look at the sniper since he whirled around and hurled a jar of…OH GOD YEUCH!

Yellow liquid splattered me, dying my suit a sickly shade. I looked up, disgusted and angry. "Is this…?"

The sniper grinned. "Why yes, yes it is!"

"Mon Dieu!" I yelled, backing away. He took out his kukri and hacked at me, giant knife swinging.

"You call that tiny blade of yours a knife? _This_ is a knife, mate!"

I ran past him, stabbing at his back. My knife got caught in something, and I pulled away in surprise. He was wearing a shield slung over his shoulder! My knife was caught in it. The sniper turned to me, grinning.

"Loike my shield?" he said, voice accented. He slashed at me, drawing a bloody gash across my arm. I yanked my revolver and fired a shot into his head. Time froze. The sniper stared at me, eyes wide. Then, he collapsed, dead. Hopefully forever.

I yanked out my knife. "You got blood on my suit."

I hurried down the stairs and saw my teammates struggling to get the payload the last few meters.

I ran forward, legs trembling from the exertion. The payload mission had only progressed about ten minutes, but I was already exhausted. I saw engineer whacking the red engineer with a wrench. The red engineer, in turn, was hitting him with his shotgun, evidently out of ammunition.

I bludgeoned the red pyro with my knife butt, causing him to back away, and shoved the cart the last few meters. Success! I blacked out.

I was being carried. The steady movement of the stretcher-bearers rocked me. I sat up, throwing the soldier and scout carrying me off balance. I hopped off the stretcher, then fell to my knees as nausea washed over me.

"Oooh…" I groaned. The medic, now suddenly listless, heaved me up and turned a sleepy eye on me.

"Concussion," he said. Yawning, he examined my suit. "Jarate remains." Then he grabbed my arm and looked at the slash mark. "Kukri blade. The blade was dirty. Chance of infection. Looks like it's a night in the medical bay for you."

I frowned. A night in the med bay was far from appealing. I went along though, as resistance would be pointless. The medic, yawning and looking like he hadn't slept in years, pushed me onto a bed. Then he went to his desk and took his medi-gun. After applying the healing rays to seal the skin on my arm, he took a needle and a fleshy string.

"Zis vill sting," he said. He stitched the ends of the kukri wound shut. I did sting. Actually, it hurt. I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out.

When he was done, he examined my head. "It is bad to leave zhe vounds, but concussions can be bad as well. Ze medi-gun will not suffice for it. Rest, at least twenty-four hours, should do it. Keep zis on your head." He produced an ice pack wrapped in a cloth, then placed it on my head. "Ve do not want too much blood rushing to your head. Zis tryptophan shot vill put you to rest."

"What?"

He held up a syringe. "Zhis is not standard Anastasia. Zhis vill help your body recuperate as vell. Stay still. Zhis vill only sting for a moment!" Pulling up my sleeve and wiping the skin with alcohol, he jabbed in the needle. Almost right away, I felt sleepy. Not exactly enough for sleep, but I sort of dozed off, mind slowing down.

I think I heard the medic snoring.

AN:

Well, have you guessed which character represents me? Tell me what you think.


	3. Chapter 3: Rats and Swine

AN:

CrazyGirlMe: You are right! Medic represents myself! I really didn't intend for medic to get that much attention, since I dislike attention myself, but his weird symptoms that he shares with me sort of drew the spotlight to him. Thanks for the continued encouragement.

GUEST: Jarate and razorback can't go together? MY SNIPER DOESN'T CARE. XD And he'll ask heavy to care for him if you bug him. ;)

Now that I'm done rambling, enjoy the story. A little twist, a farm, some rats, and what the blue bloody hell is going on here?

I was awake. Midnight. Lately, it was really quite fortunate for me to actually get a full-night's sleep, and tonight I'd managed to shake off scout and sleep at ten. I'd last spotted him going to the med bay, probably to ask medic for that shortstop.

Something had woken me up. I wasn't sure what, and I strained to listen into the dark. My eyes adjusted to the gloom.

There was a chittering noise, the faint scraping of something against metal. I crept out of my bed and found my Ambassador gun. I checked that it was loaded and scanned my room.

Nothing was in my room, and I couldn't hear anything outside. Where was the noise coming from?

I stood and walked around, trying to pinpoint the scraping noise. The noise grew louder as I approached a corner of the room. I backed towards the wall, and stepped on something.

"YAH!" I yelped, setting off my gun by accident. The bullet flew and ricochet off the ceiling light, coming back towards me. I dodged, and the bullet hit the wall. Struggling to the light switch, I turned on the lamp.

A fat, furry white rat, (maybe a mouse?) sat in the corner of my room. It looked like someone had carelessly stepped on it(oops), and sat there, chattering away angrily. It was gnawing on something. I crouched and my eyes met the two tiny green orbs in its head. I looked at what it was chewing. A pen.

I sighed. Now I was awake at midnight, from a rat trying to swallow my pen. I flicked off the light switch and settled back to sleep. The chewing, grinding noise continued.

I bore it for maybe an hour, until my eyes were sore and likely red. Finally, I grabbed my gun and shot the miserable rodent. There was a squeak, and then a popping noise and all was silent. Peace, I hoped.

When morning came around, it had no respect for my desire to sleep in. The rude sunlight barged in through my window and assaulted my face. I crammed a pillow over my eyes and slept on, resolutely ignoring the light. I only got up a minute later because I was breathing in too much pillow, and too little air.

Sitting up, I stretched. My third week here, soon to be a month. I was quite bothered by how long the others had been here, since supposedly their contracts stated a few months. Some had been here years. I set that aside in my head and checked the time. It was winter, and it was eight. I was surprised scout hadn't woken me up. I donned my suit and nearly choked myself with my tie in haste. Then, I rushed out the door, dashing down the corridor to the kitchen. There was nobody there but medic.

Medic was sitting upright in a chair. He was nodding off, and when I entered, his head snapped up so quickly I heard a loud _crack!_

That has got to hurt.

"Ow!" medic muttered. Then he looked to me. "Awake at last, are you? I couldn't sleep much eighzer. Zhere vere rats crawling in my room, two of zem! Ze ozhers are watching soldier show off his new Direct-Hit rocket launcher."

"Ah. There was a rat in my room as well. Eet kept me up for an hour. I shot it," I answered, sitting down and looking at the medic.

Medic smiled tiredly. "Zhe corpse vill stink, you know?" He gestured with his hands. "It vill fall apart and if you leave it too long, it vill decompose. Zhen ze smell vill never, ever go avay."

"Sank you for the disgusting information. By the way, have you seen scout?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Vhy vould you care vhere scout is?"

I squirmed in my seat. His eyes, tired or not, seemed to drill into my head.

"Well, 'e usually wakes me up," I said.

He rolled his eyes. "And you expect him to do zhis every day? Vhat, is he your servant? Lycherlich!"

"What the hell does 'lycherlich' mean?" I grumbled. I grabbed a mug from the table. There was coffee in it.

"It means 'ridiculous'," he said flatly.

"You must teach me German some time," I said as I took a sip of the coffee. "What the hell is this?!"

"Oh zat! Zat is paint," medic said, completely emotionless. "Likely the toxins in it vill destroy your liver and kidney."

"WHAT?"

"Calm down, I jest!"

"You don't joke about people's organs shutting down," I angrily replied. "You shouldn't say that so straight-faced."

"You don't joke about zat?" he asked. He seemed genuinely surprised. Right then, his eyes shut briefly and he toppled over in his chair. I looked at his boots, which noew rested on the table.

"Er," I said. "Are 'ou alright?"

"I just fell off a chair? Do you _think_ I'm alright?" His voice was muffled. "And zhere is piece of tablecloth in my mouth!"

I couldn't help but burst out laughing. I reached down and heaved the man up. He was insanely light. I'd guess around a hundred and twenty pounds? Hmm.

Medic glanced at the wall clock. "It is nearly nine," he murmured. "I must get ready for ze battle." He stormed off to his med bay and I went to my room. I put on my mask and checked my weapons. My sapper was acting strangely. It emitted a thin screeching noise when I turned it on. I fiddled with the power knob until it stopped, then slipped the devices into my pocket.

Outside, the men were all lined up, except sniper and medic. Sniper was probably on a roof somewhere, aiming at someone's head. Medic should be out here. Worried, I went back to the med bay. Medic was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall. He was asleep.

"Oi! Doctor!"

"…"

I grabbed him and slapped him. His eyes snapped open.

"Yah! Vat is it?!"

"You fell asleep," I told him. "We cannot have you sleeping on the field."

"You are right. Let me get something." He went to his desk and took a syringe full of purple liquid. With a swift movement, he injected it into his arm. He straightened, and his eyes stared straight ahead blankly. "Zhis…should keep me avake."

"So I see," I said, looking at his blank look. "Are you really okay?"

"Yes, yes, now let us go!" He pushed me out the door, and then made his way to the battlefield. Right then, the combat started.

The chaos at the start of a fight is only understood by those who were there. The very moment the alarm blares, bullets fly and tempers rise. I hurried forward. Pyro keeled over with a muffled scream. A bullet had slammed into his chest, and he collapsed. He was still.

"Damn it! The battle has just begun!" I growled. Our soldier launched a rocket off, but somehow it was flying back..at me! "What the-?"

I leapt to the side, and the projectile shot past, exploding against the walls of the building. Bullets whizzed past me. The enemy pyro held a shotgun and was letting fly with it. I felt some scrape my arm and blood splattered on the ground.

Heavy charged past, screaming. "RAAAHHHRR! COME fight ME, tiny man!" He lowered his massive gun and allowed bullets to fly. Screams of pain floated around the crisp, morning air. Already the cold of winter morning was dispelling as the odor of perspiration came, and bullets whined through emptiness.

I'm so happy to be here, I could just throw up.

So I did.

When the enemy scout ran up to me, his bat caught my stomach. I regurgitated last night's food in a very violent matter. I retched for a moment, expecting a second blow to come, but it never did. The red scout collapsed as a bullet tore into his head. I looked up and saw our sniper sitting on the roof of a shed. He had a crate by him, with a cup of coffee and a sandwich on it. Lucky.

Our scout came hurtling past, clothes on fire. "Medic!"

Medic hurried over and healed scout, who ran off, without even waiting for the medic to fully heal him. The doctor turned his ministrations to our heavy, who was now fistfighting with the rival heavy.

One I was sure I'd not longer be vomiting mostly digested carrots, I cloaked and found my way to the enemy base. Inside, a popped a new cigarette in my mouth but didn't light it. The red engineer would smell the smoke.

In case you are curious, on the form it asked if I smoked. I wonder why.

At any rate, the red engineer had a turret just by the intelligence. Disguising as the red medic, I ran in.

"Doc? What are ya doin' here?" he said, looking up.

I faked a panting fit. "Ze blues, zey are coming! Zey broke past pyro and ze ozhers, and are on ze vay!"

"Damn it all! Wait here by my regenerator. I'm going to tear someone's face to shreds," the engineer said. He picked up his shotgun and hurried out. I had maybe a minute before he realized he'd been duped, so I slapped sappers on the sentry and dispenser. Then, I grabbed the intelligence. Pausing to make sure the sapper was securely on the buildings, I hurried away. No sense sticking around. I nearly made it back to my base to, except when medic blocked the way.

"Medic! Let me pass!" I said urgently.

Medic stabbed at me with his bonesaw. Huh?

I slapped his hand away and socked his stomach. He doubled over, and red static lines swirled around him. Red spy was there, clutching his midriff. If our medic was a spy though, where was our actual medic? I shoved the spy against a wall and ran past. After dumping the intelligence, I saw all the reds fleeing back to their base. I collapsed, exhausted on the ground.

Medic came in with a strange, dizzy look on his face.

"Ah, zhere you are," he mumbled, turning slightly to face me. His eyes were glazed and focused on a point just over my head.

"What 'appened to you?" I asked, eyeing his half-dead demeanor.

"Some son of a gun hit me in ze head vit a knife butt. How annoying," he replied. He sat down by me. "It vas the red spy."

"Yeah, he tried to kill me," I said.

Medic seemed to refocus then. "Oh yes. Zhere is a paper you must see." He took out a document. There was a pig symbol at the top. Below, there were words.

**WE WILL BE TEMPORARILY RELOCATING ALL MEN**

**TO FIGHT ON A FARMLAND. IT IS ADVSIED THAT THE MEDIC**

**PREPARES HIS EQUIPMENT APPROPRAITELY. THE MISSION**

**THE BATTLE FORMAT WILL BE KING OF THE HILL.**

**BLU TEAM, DO NOT LOSE TO THE REDS. THE BATTLE**

**GROUND IS A FIELD, SO SET YOURSELF UP AS REQUIRED.**

**MEDICS MAY NOW TAKE REQUEST FROM TEAMMATES TO**

**SEND IN LAST MINUTE ORDERS. THE MOVE IS TOMMOROW.**

**DELIVERIES WILL COME AT SIX IN THE MORNING.**

**-BLUE CORP.**

Oh joy. We're going to be fighting on a farm? Surrounded by pigs and cows? What are they trying to do here?

"Zis vill be so annoying!" medic griped. "I vill need to bring medicinal materials since hay fever and allergies might come. And imagine vat other things vill happen on a farm? UGH!" The tired doctor stood and cracked his knuckles. "Before ve leave, I'll need to give ze lot of you injections tonight."

I blinked, rapidly. "Injections? Why?"

"Guess. Zhere are all these bacteria and all zat horrible cow shit. Imagine ze implications medically. Command must be trying to kill me," he groaned.

I steered the man to the medical bay, and when he was there he seemed to become more back-on-earth. He bustled about almost immediately upon entry, digging through cabinets and hunting out materials. I saw him adding drops of clear liquid into syringes. I wondered if he knew what he was doing, seeing as he was dead on his feet. Another thought occurred to me. How was he still our medic, what with his tired tendencies, I'dm expect for him to have been shot dead already.

Medic popped a chocolate in his mouth and chewed slowly. Tapping a pen against his temples, he adopted a mask of blankness. He stared at the wall, apparently thinking.

I for my part returned to my room to find an army of fat, white rats/mice in the corner. They remained bunched in the corner and did not scatter even when I approached. They were eating their dead friend from this morning. Disgusting.

"Hello, mousey," I muttered. "Get out of my room." I picked up my gun again and aimed at one of the rats. They scattered, diving all over. Most slipped into a gap in the wall, and the rest went into my open closet. A moment later, the rats ran out, screeching. They fled from the French cologne smell on my suit.

Rats with no taste. Next, fish that throw lightning bolts.

I took out a cologne bottle and splashed a little on the rats. They panicked, shooting off every which way. Does it smell that bad? I think it's smells fine. Geez. Such picky mice. Or rats. Oh what the hell, rice. No wait. That's food. How about mats. Damn it, rats. There.

I poured cologne on the floor in front of the rat hole, and then replaced the bottle on my bedside table. I packed my weapons, and a couple of suits. Apparently, we'd be at the farm for a while.

Well paint me red and slap me silly.

The speaker came on. "All men must bring weapons."

Well shoot the horse and shove crowbars in my mouth.

"Please report at five in the morning to the kitchen."

Well roll me in pig manure and mail me to hell!

"You may not bring any kind of food or drink unless you are the medic."

Well run me over with a tractor and spit hayseeds in my face!

I flopped down in my bed, too tired to think anymore. I drifted off into the realm of sleep, eyes fluttering shut. My last thought was of a scarecrow holding my disguise kit and laughing at me.

Five in the morning. A heavy weight slammed into my stomach, causing my eyes to fly open and my breath to run away from my throat. I coughed, and shoved…scout off my stomach.

"H-h-h-ack!" My throat convulsed and I felt sick. "What was that for?!"

Scout grinned. "You left your door unlocked, snake man! Why the fuck does it smell like French cologne in here?" He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Gross. It's like, shit and plants or something. It smells like something dead."

"Shut up. It is a French thing. You wouldn't understand." I got up and stretched. "Time for us to visit the farm. You ready?"

"Wait, medic ordered stuff for all of us so we gotta go pick those up at six. We leave at seven." Scout ran out the door, dog tags flying. I sighed and followed suit.

Everyone was already up. Heavy was eating a sandwich, and the others were talking in hushed undertones. Medic was discussing something with soldier. They seemed to be arguing, and by the way soldier's face was turning more and more red, I'd say medic was annoying him.

I found a small ham sandwich left out for me. I ate it, and took out a cigarette. I was about to light it when I saw medic glaring daggers at me.

"What?" I said.

"I hate smoking. If you want to turn your lungs into a small black stone, do it in another room, or outside!" he responded vehemently. He turned back and started saying something angrily to soldier.

"Okay, okay, good lord," I grumbled, putting away the cigarette.

When six o' clock came around, medic left and returned with a small wagon in tow. There were an assortment of things. The soldier got the pickaxe "escape plan", the scout got a shortstop, and pyro got a flare gun. The others looked around at the other items. Engineer grabbed a golden wrench and hefted it, grinning. Sniper had a huntsman, which he strung experimentally. Heavy had strange brass knuckles. They were labeled "Eviction Notice".

Demo found the Scottish Resistance. Medic got himself an ubersaw. I saw something left for me. It looked like an icicle.

"…what is this?"

Medic glanced over. "Spy-sicle. I vas not sure vat to order for you, so I got that. It turns your enemies to ice. Good for entertainment, I suppose."

With that proclamation, he was done. Someone handed him a mug of coffee. When he looked at it, his face twisted in disgust, and he shoved it away. Sniper frowned.

"We can't have you fallin' asleep, mate. Might as well stay awake! The caffeine will help you," Sniper grunted. Medic looked at him.

"Well," he said flatly. "Although it discolors teeth and tastes like shit, very well." He gripped the cup and gulped down its contents. When he set it on the table his eyes were somewhat wide. "Hmm."

He walked away without a word. A few of us exchanged glances, and then went our separate ways to pack.

When the ride came, it was in the form of a train. We hopped on, and the vehicle shot off at tremendous speed, rocketing down the rails. Within half an hour, we were at the "farm" battlefield. When we stepped off the train, we surveyed our new grounds.

"Holy shit," Sniper muttered.

"Shit isn't holy," medic said dryly. "Unless there is a knew feces-worshipping religious cult I am yet unaware of." Sniper shot a glare at him, but medic just dusted his coat off and joined us in viewing the land.

The entire area was fenced in. The field was split in two, and at the center was the control point. Our team structure was the team colored barn on the opposite ends of the field. The ground was covered in growing brown grass and wheat. Even more odd were the animals roaming free.

It wasn't the cows on the sidelines or the chickens on the roof that really drew our attention. It was the flock (herd?) of pigs that had decided to annex the control point. They stood and sat there, oinking and rolling around. Bacon control point. Yum.

We went towards the farm building, which was evidently our new home for a while. A man came out. He looked exactly like a generic farmer, straw hat and all. With a hap-toothed grin he greeted us.

"Hey lads! My new posse! You've got a new spy I see!" he shouted, even though he was right in front of us. "Well, I best get off the land before you fill me with bullets." With that odd speech he left, whistling an off-key tune.

We went inside to find rather pleasant rooms, much unlike the battlefield. The inside was ventilated, but outside you could smell the animal dung and farmyard odors. I nearly vomited when I walked past the cows.

The giant steaks with legs eyed us as we passed. One of them let out a moo, then went back to eating grass. I wondered what would happen if pyro flamed them.

Once we unloaded our belongings, we went to a meeting in the kitchen.

Demo shook his head once we arrived and spoke. "I cannae believe we be stuck heah fer hell knows how long!"

Scout frowned. "This place smells like fucking horse shit!"

Medic tapped his temples thoughtfully. "Zhere are no horses, scout. I am sinking zat if ve are here, ze reds must be coming soon as vell." He paused and looked around. "Vhere are heavy and pyro?"

The two were nowhere to be found. Right after medic said that, pyro came in, smelling faintly of smoke.

"Pyro?" medic asked. "Vhere is ze heavy?"

"Mtside nn pfg!" he replied. I wonder why he doesn't take off his mask?

"Vat?" medic said blankly.

"Mtside nn pfg! Mtside nn pfg!"

"Pyro, write it down," medic said, handing him pen and paper.

Pyro took it and wrote, _He is outside with the pigs!_

Medic groaned. He turned to me. "Spy, can you please go find him? He vill probably be doing somesink stupid, and zen get hurt. Zen I vill have to heal him."

I nodded. "Of course." I left to find heavy. As it turns it out, he was just outside. He stood just around a corner and I paused, hearing a crunching noise.

"'eavy?"

"Omnomnomnom…"

"'eavy!"

"Omnom, nomnom, nomnomnom…"

"'EAVY!"

"GAH!" heavy yelled. His head twisted around the corner. "Spy! What are you doing here? You look for me?"

"Yes, 'eavy. We were wondering where you went. What is that you're eating?"

Heavy rounded the corner and I nearly threw up in disgust. Heavy was holding the charred corpse of a pig.

"What are you eating that for?!" I yelped. "That's disgusting."

Heavy looked at the pig he was munching on. "Pyro cooked for me! Is good!" He ate some more, splattering my suit with blood. I sighed.

"Come in, 'eavy."

I led the gargantuan man inside. He continued to eat the pig, and the burnt smell made me gag several times.

The others looked up when I brought heavy in. Their eyes widened.

"Heavy…" medic said. "Zat…is zat a pig?"

"Yes, doctor! Is good bacon!"

A vein in medic's neck pulsed. "Heavy! Zat is not bacon! It is a burned, dead pig zat vill likely make you sick! Stop eating it!"

Heavy frowned. "Okay, doctor. You want?"

Medic glared at him and barked, "N-!"

Heavy had reached forward and slapped a hunk of blackened flesh on medic's mouth. The man froze. Very slowly, and very deliberately, medic peeled off the "porkchop" and looked at heavy. Scout was grinning. Engineer was looking away. The others were watching with mild interest. I was trying not to throw up.

Medic looked at the hunk of meat, and then his eyes roamed to heavy. You could cut the tension with a knife.

Crouching, medic placed the meat on the floor, and then went to heavy. He took took out a tongue depressor. "Say, 'ah'!"

Heavy complied, allowing me the wonderful view of cheweds up pork guts rammed between tombstone-sized teeth. I turned around and vomited up my breakfast in the trash can.

Medic looked at heavy's teeth for a moment, then punched heavy in the face, knocking the giant over and causing him to collapse. Did he just knock over _heavy?_

Medic looked at him for a moment, then suddenly staggered back, clutching his arm. "Gah! Owowowowowowowowowow!"

Scout burst out laughing while demo rolled his eyes. Soldier picked up the meat and chewed the tip of it. Disgusting.

Heavy stood up and blinked, seeming to already have forgotten that medic just punched him. He pushed medic into a chair and said, "So what meeting for?"

Medic, through gritted teeth, said, "Ve vere discussing vat ve should do today."

Soldier stood up. "Men, I propose we attack the red bastards right now! We march over to their stinking base and show those commies whose boss!"

"Zay are commies?" medic asked, feigning interest.

"What do you mean, doc? Of course their commies!" soldier yelled.

"I see. And vhat does the other soldier call us?"

"…you know doc, I hope you get replaced real soon."

When the reds showed up an hour later, sniper took out binoculars and spied on the reds. They were already settled in, and they had a new pyro, to replace their last one. This one was large and bulky. A heavy-pyro hybrid of sorts. He clutched a Backburner flamethrower. That one was going to be trouble, since the backburner's flames were 15% more powerful.

When I lay down to sleep at night, my mind was buzzing with the day's events.

The next morn I awoke feeling like I could take on the world. I decided to take a step down and take on breakfast.

In the kitchen, strangely shaped pancakes sat on plates. Soldier's pancakes were skull-shaped with imprints for the eye sockets. Now that was weird. Heavy sat down in a chair and it collapsed, splintering under heavy's weight.

"Bad chair is too weak!" heavy announced. He stomped off, leaving several of us trying quite hard not to laugh. When we were done eating medic arrived at the kitchen. I decided to ask about heavy.

"Does 'eavy, er, like raw meat?" I asked.

Sniper spoke up, surprisingly. "Naw, just crazy dumb."

Medic grimaced. "He vould not hurt a fly."

Sniper smiled. "Except reds are not flies."

"And flies are harder to shoot anyway," medic finished.

"Is that like a routine for you?" I asked. They had recited that a little too perfectly. The two shook their heads no, and then left the table.

I put on my mask and headed out. The pigs on the control point were gone. Sniper was swearing under his breath, and I didn't blame him. There wasn't anywhere for him to hide and shoot from, just open fields.

The alarm blared and combat began. I rushed out, cloaking as I went. I hid by the red door as the men poored out, screaming throaty war cries. I never understood the point of battle cries. They alert the enemy and make you look like an idiot who likes to prove his lungs are larger than yours.

When the red heavy came out I noted that the red medic was nowhere to be seen. I had not time to ponder it, so I decloaked and disguised as the soldier. I hurried up.

This heavy was unlike the last one I'd killed. Not very different. The main difference was that he had a raw onion in his mouth. I wasn't even going to bother ask why. Drawing my knife, I stabbed rapidly, sinking my knife into his heart. The heavy collapsed with a scream of agony.

I ran to the control point, but tripped over something, falling flat on my face. I looked.

"oink."

!#^#%! ^($$?!$ ^ %&!

I tripped over a pig that was half buried in a mud pool. Having a nice mud bath pig? I'm not! BECAUSE OF YOU!

I've heard mud is good for your complexion. The pig wouldn't have needed it. Bacon, even ugly bacon, is bacon in the end. I shot the pig in the head, and struggled to my feet. I looked up to a clicking sound. There was a shotgun barrel in my face.

"Merde," I growled. The red engineer pulled the trigger, just as I rolled aside. The bullets sprayed the pig, throwing up swine blood all over. I ran for my life and glanced over my shoulder. The red engineer was running away from out scout. I grinned, and then ran smack into a cow. Shoving the milk dispenser/cow away, I made my way to our engineer, who had his turret up and running.

He looked up at me. "What's up, spah?"

"I'm running into pigs and cows is what!"

"Henh. Why don't you bring one back and we can eat it!"

I sat down by his regenerator, rubbing my bruised chest. I felt a rib slightly out of place. "The animals are running about, getting een my way!"

"I always liked chicken," engineer said absentmindedly. "Tastes like chicken."

"Yes you imbecile, chicken does taste like chicken," I said. "Why are you babbling about chickens? There is a red scout coming this way!"

Engineer looked up as the scout jumped over the turret and landed behind engineer. "Oh boy," engineer said, looking as his turret swung around to face him.

The turret level two fired, peppering engineer with his own bullets. The scout took the chance to fire his scattergun _through_ engie and damage the sentry. I swung my knife and hacked at the scout, slicing open his arm. With a boyish yelp he fled, clutching his arm.

"Engineer!" I shouted. I bent down by the collapsed engineer. I placed a finger on his neck. A pulse. "Medic!" I yelled, swiveling my head. Medic dropped in, quite literally.

Medic jumped down from the roof, landing with a sickening crunch. He winced, and then turned to engineer, bending down without a word. He counted bullet holes.

"Zhere are…seventeen bullets in him from ze scattergun. I'd guess about eighty seven from his-"

"Enough of the diagnosis! More of the healing!"

He sighed and heaved his medi-gun up, releasing the healing rays. At the same time he took a pair of tweezers and began digging bullets out of the engineer's back.

A bullet struck my arm, and I looked out onto the field. The red sniper stood behind the red heavy (Why is he alive?) and was aiming at me. I held up my ambassador, but I wasn't sure what I planned to hit. My entire arm was shaking. I couldn't possibly hit him at this range.

The next thing I knew, the sniper was dead, a bullet in his heart. Our sniper stood leaning coolly against the barn door, a smirk pasted on his face.

I turned to medic. He was still extracting ammunition. I stood and made my way over to the sniper, tripping over a few more pigs.

Sniper turned to face me. "What do you want?"

"Can you get see the red medic?" I asked.

He looked through his scope and began searching the field. "No…"

Where was the bugger?

Suddenly sniper grinned. "I found him."

"Wait! Don't shoot him!" I interceded. I followed sniper's gaze to the door. The red medic was cautiously coming out. His eyes darted back and forth, not unlike a squirrel.

Sniper shrugged and turned his attention to other targets. I hurried to the red side of the field, and grabbed the red medic's shoulder. He screamed, a high pitched noise, and drew his bonesaw.

"Wait!" I said, grabbing his wrist. He eyed me fearfully. "I have a quick question for you."

He tore away and hugged his arms to himself. "V-vhat?"

"Why did you stop your sniper from killing me?" I asked. The question had been hiding in a corner of my brain, gnawing away. "You tackled me, if I remember right."

He turned red and muttered something incoherent. With that, he ran, his lab coat flapping. A moment later, he was lost in combat.

"We have captured the point," the adjutant blared.

Great. So what? Rewind to the red medic running away. Weird.

I was vaguely aware that our scout was dragging me back to base. I wonder if he realizes I know how to walk.

At the base, the men celebrated with a cask of beer that must have been here since the ice age. When they broached it and the smell came out, I fled the room. Imagine the smell of rotting grapes and flesh, combined with the stench of a skunk that was just scared out of its wits.

While soldier, demo and heavy stayed down there and pressured scout to try it, the others (including myself) went up to our rooms. Downstairs I heard retching as scout tried to get rid of the sewer-worthy material he just drank.

Soon medic knocked on my door and entered. He was holding an envelope. With a flourish, he allowed its contents to fall out.

There were two photos. One of me asking a red-faced medic a question, and another with the red medic running and me standing there staring after him. I realized this was my little meeting with the red doctor.

"Yes…?" I asked. "What is this?"

Medic leered at me. "Your brief exchange did not go unnoticed. May I ask what is going on? Vhy did you ask sniper not to kill him?" His eyes told me he had a few guesses. "Last time, he prevented you from being shot be ze red sniper, no? Maybe he likes you. Zat vould be disturbing. A gay doctor haunting you." Medic shivered in mock horror. Then he rolled his eyes. "Vell? Vhy did you not kill him?"

I crossed my arms. "I just didn't. Problem?"

"Velly much so. You did not so much as attack him. Zhere vas a camera in the house, and I borrowed it so I could interrogate you on zis."

"I'll stab him next time, happy?" I growled. Medic leaned in until I could smell his breath. Chocolate. I like milk chocolate. It tastes great, and has a rich-oh wait, he's asking me something.

"I must ask vhy you did not kill him, and you must answer. If something is going on, I of all people must know!" he cried. He leaned back. "I am your medic, psychologist, surgeon, doctor, therapeutics specialist, on field medical officer, vhatever!"

What did he want me to say? That I couldn't kill him? That I had a guilty conscience? Maybe I can tackle him and knock him out. Wait…he's holding a scalpel. Maybe not then, unless I don't want my eyes.

"Well," I said. "I really didn't want to kill him right there and then, I mean, no challenge! A medic all on his own?"

Medic knows when he's being lied to. He knew that I was lying to him. I almost expected a scalpel to remove my nose...or other much more key parts. Yeugh.

Instead, the enigmatic doctor placed a small bow on my lab and left. I opened the box and a small rubber duck popped out.

I really, really don't understand anyone on this team.

In the morning of our second full day, I woke up with a feather tickling my chin. I swatted it away, and looked up to see scout. He grinned. "Hey, snakey! Awake now?"

I shoved him away and sat up, scratching my head. "Scout, you must find a better way to wake me. The feather and the stomach demolition is not very…apt."

"What the hell dude, so fucking formal!" scout muttered. He ran out the door, calling back, "Better get to the kitchen soon!"

Once I was all dressed up, I looked at the mirror. _All dressed up and nowhere to go,_ I thought. _Why am I wearing a suit on the battlefield?_

At the kitchen, I saw scout fumbling with a toaster. I watched with interest from the doorway to see just how mechanically declined scout was. He couldn't get the toaster to work, mostly because it was unplugged. Giving up, he swore and threw the toaster to the ground, causing it to break into several metal pieces.

"Poor toaster. Now I'll need to arrange a funeral for it," I said dryly. "Do you know what will be in the headlines tomorrow? 'Scout murders toaster. Motives under investigation'. That will be a most interesting article."

"Shut up!" He crossed his arms. "It was broken!"

"It was unplugged," I mused, looking at the deceased toaster. Farewell, toaster brand model 1070, you served faithfully, bringing burned toast to the men of the farm battlefield. "You did not need to utterly destroy it."

"Yeah, well I did!" he pouted, and sat down heavily. He had a jar of chocolate.

"Where did you get that?" I asked sharply.

"Medic gave it to me."

"Gave? Or was stolen from?"

"Gave…stolen from, same thing!"

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"No it's not."

"Yes."

"No."

"YES!"

"NO!"

A voice interrupted our tirade. Sniper stood by the door, listening to us, and then speaking. "You know, you two are like an old married couple, bickering and all."

"No fucking way!" scout said. "He just is all 'toaster funeral'!"

"It needs one after the way you destroyed it. Hey scout, go get sniper's kukri and end your life with it. Might be for the best."

Sniper strolled in. "No," he said. "You may not use my knife (Scout: that thing is no way in hell just a knife. It's a fucking sword!) for ending your own life, or for that matter, ending any other part of your body's continued existence or attachment."

Scout grinned, revealing a slight gap in his front teeth. "Now that that's done…yes, getting and stealing from is the same."

"I take it back" sniper said. "Go end that pathetic thing you call a life."

AN:

Sorry it wasn't so much joking around and humor this time. A lot of it was rambling, because I needed to gather some more ideas, and crank out a filler story. For reference, Japanese "honorably" end their lives with a suicidal process called "hari-kari" or something like that. They use a katana. Katana, kukri…whatever. Maybe I'll make sniper dress up as a ninja. Muwahaha.


	4. Chapter 4: Something Strange

If you've ever lived on a farm, you'd know it's not all that great. There are some good things, but when you're _fighting_ on a farm, there are none. Surrounded all day by bullets and screaming men, you really cannot imagine how irritating it is.

What was the difference between fighting elsewhere and fighting on a farm? I'd say at least two things, one being the horrible stench and the second being that I'm tripping over half-buried pigs every ten steps.

To be fair, there are some decent aspects.

Readily available meat.

I steady supply of farmyard animals, and anything growing that we didn't destroy, was combined with the standard rations. It really didn't make up for what happened later though.

Even though when we arrived, it was winter, it had been relatively warm. However, after about three days, the cold set in like a piranha on a man in a bacon suit. (bad comparison.) When the cold came, the entire farm felt doomed. The water pump froze over. The animals hid in a small underground basement I never knew existed. Icicles formed on the overhangs.

The medic loved it.

Every morning, the man was up quite early, strangely energetic. He still had the shadows under his eyes and the slightly hunched walk, but he was more lively. Of late, he had locked himself in his room for an hour every morning. So it went like this for a week, and meanwhile we spent anyway drilling on king of the hill.

One day I woke up with scout piling books on my chest. I shoved the load off and screamed for him to get the hell out. When I got up, a red spy ran past my room. Seeing me, he cloaked and vanished.

"Spy in the base!" I yelped.

"Spy?" a rough voice came in answer. Oh no. I didn't want _him_ to hear.

Soldier ran up to me, boots clomping. "Speak up, soldier, where'd the commie go? Where is he?"

I rolled my eyes. There was only one way to go. Down the hall. "Down the hall...er, commander."

"Good work soldier! Keep your eyes peeled!"

Wow. No mad stomping? No crazy berating for not saluting? No twisting my head in a horrible headlock? Who are you, and what have you done with our soldier?

I watched him walk away, and it occurred to me he could be the red spy. Actually, that wasn't possible. The time span was wrong. There was something in the water….

When the others were roused by the alarm, my teammates rushed about, shouting about the spy. I myself searched the base. We knew he hadn't gotten out quite yet, because people kept bumping into him and seeing his cloak flicker. He must have had the Cloak&Dagger.

Engineer sat in the kitchen, calmly sipping coffee while the others ran around like headless chickens. Engineer kindly pointed out this analogy.

"They be like chickens without their head, running around grabbin' air," he said as I entered.

"You could be helping," I said accusingly.

"So could you," he answered nonchalantly.

"You could be him for all I know," I muttered.

"Well," he said, standing, "You won't know, but ah best go check on my sentry. Not a good thing to be leaving it around while a spah runs about."

"You have a sentry _inside?_" I asked.

"Well, yeah. In mah room, in case anyone I don't wanna see comes in," he said, leaving the kitchen. I cloaked and followed him stealthily, just in case he was the spy.

It turns out he wasn't, and I would know, since the red spy and I walked slam into each other. It was rather awkward. Both are cloaks flickered off, and we had smashed into each other like a sandwich. Very, very awkward. The first thing we both did was frantically wipe our mouths, and then swear almost identical words in French.

This was followed by engineer not moving to grab the spy, but to fall over laughing. I am going to feed him his own wrench.

Still swearing loudly, the reds spy fled for real. Engineer was still laughing.

"You should 'ave caught and killed him!" I screamed.

"Aw, I couldn't kill our own spah's best pal! Gehehehe!" He doubled over with laughter, and then went to his room. Has everyone gone mad?

I decided to go to the farm's med bay. The place was always, calm, quiet, and peaceful. I liked going there. Medic had found that a special room was made for the medic in the barn-like building, and there were already some supplies.

When I was just outside the medical bay doors, I heard retching noises from inside. It sounded like someone was trying to vomit up their own stomach. I heard a splattering noise a moment later and wished I hadn't even thought about vomiting stomachs.

I peeked in carefully. "Medic?"

"Hlrrugh…."

Not a nice sound. Rather nasty, actually.

"Medic," I repeated. "Are you alright?"

His tired voice floated over to my ears. "Nien, but come in."

Inside, medic was throwing up blood into a small trash can he was kneeling in front of. As I entered, he threw up more red blood with a sickly gagging noise. He saw me enter, and stood, wiping his mouth. The blood smeared onto his sleeve.

"Yes? Broken bone? Vat is vrong?"

"I could ask 'ou that."

He grimaced. "Zhis…is unimportant. Vhy are you here?"

"I just needed some peace," I answered. "Are you really alright, spewing blood everywhere? You are the medic, so I imagined you had no…'ealth problems."

"Yes," he said tersely. "I am fine, spy."

That was said with such finality I knew not to pursue.

"Okay. Are you done throwing up blood?"

"Yes," he said, and threw up.

When medic had finally convinced me he wasn't going to die, he told me that he'd just felt a little unwell. I didn't believe that, but medic can be dangerous when annoyed, so I just stored it away in my head to ask scout.

"Vhy are you here?" he asked again. "Peace, yes, but has something happened?"

"Well, I did slam face-to-face with the red spy," I mumbled. "I 'ave had a perfectly wonderful morning, but this wasn't it."

"Meaning…?"

"Meaning nothing!"

"Yes, and it is more likely you gave him a hug zen zat means nusing."

Medic's words struck dangerously close to the mark. I needed to divert his attention. "Why does engie keep a turret in 'is room?"

Medic seemed thoughtful. "It vasn't zhere before. I sink he added it when a red spy broke into our base a few months before you arrived. He haz been paranoid since zhen, and zat is likely vhy he stuck a sentry in his room." He sat down at his desk and sighed. "I am tired. So tired. Vould you care to hear my rambling for a minute?"

"Uh…sure?" Was that the right thing to say?

"Everyone here," he began, "Has a contract for six, eight, or ten months. However, me being medic, I know different. Zhere are bodies stored here, and zhere are enough for every single person xat has ever worked here. Nobody leaves. Zis place is a tomb."

"W-what do you mean?" I asked. Tomb? What?

"Zey only replace you when you die. Zhey send letters stating you vill be payed upon your leaving, and zat every month means more monetary compensation, but zat is a lie as far as I know. True, this could not have gone unnoticed. Some people did get to go back, mostly people with high kill streaks."

"So…we cannot leave? That's impossible. You are paranoid."

"Maybe, spy. Maybe."

With that cryptic statement he slumped over on his desk and was soon asleep.

I crept out of the med bay, making my way to scout's room. Don't get any funny ideas. I have a question about medic for him.

Scout was whacking a training dummy with his sandman. He looked up when I came in.

"Hey! Snake guy!"

"Stop calling me snake guy," I growled irritably. "I am not a serpent, or any other animal for that matter.

"Whaddya want?"

"I want to ask about medic."

"Hmm? What about him?"

"Have you ever seen him cough up blood?"

"Huh? What kinda question is that?"

"Just answer me."

Scout looked at his bat. "Yeah, I did. Twice. The first time he said he'd been socked in the stomach by a red guy, so I let it go. The second time it couldn't have been a punch. He looked all white and half-dead. He told me I better not tell anyone, but I guess you saw him already, huh?"

"Yes. Why does he always stand so strong and alone, like he can't trust anyone?" It was odd. Medic always acted like he can't rely on someone else. True, personal strength is good, but he always avoided others like they were disease.

"Just not a people person, I guess," scout said. "He's sorta freaky." He thumbed the bat's handle. "I saw him writing in a journal once." A glint stole over scout's eyes. "Maybe if we can get a hold of it…."

"Scout!" I said. "You-you can't just-"

"Why not? Maybe we can find out why he's so cold. Maybe his girl died! Maybe his dad was some bastard idiot! Come on, you're so careful, snakey!" scout grinned. Does this boy have no respect for other people's privacy?

"It might not be a journal," I pointed out. "It might just be medical records."

"Oh, it is a journal. I heard him mutter some of the words. It's a journal, and I damn wanna see it."

"Someday, scout, you should be a spy. Your personality is just right."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooO

Scout was adamant. He wanted to see the journal. I considered knocking him out as he approached the med bay with his bat. He said if medic was there, he'd bash him once and knock him out. I didn't like it. The only reason I didn't stop him was because I was curious myself.

I really didn't want to help scout, and breathed out a sigh of relief that medic was not present. Scout crept over to the medic's desk.

"Shit," he breathed.

"What?"

"His desk is locked. Can you pick it? You're a spy!"

I shrugged. "It's locked, it's locked. I won't pick it."

"C'mon, man! Just one lockpick!"

"No," I answered. "His journal, his business."

"Fine, I'll break open his desk."

"Scout," I said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You are way too obsessed about this. Get over it."

"Fine, fine!" He yelled, and ran off. What's with him?

I looked at medic's desk. Something was off. There were papers out. I knew medic always locked away his stuff. There was also a series of scratch marks. Why would medic have left in such a hurry? The chair was also shoved far away from the desk, I noticed. I bent down and examined the tabletop. A speck of blood was there, probably from the vomiting.

I decided to set it aside.

At six, when the others were eating, I asked around if anyone had seen medic. Nobody had. Pyro said, "Hhhsnn hmm hht hrr."

I had no idea what that meant. Heavy looked worried.

Panic rose in my mind as others began to comb the base and came up with nothing. Where _was _he?!

Medic appeared a minute after I thought that.

He looked at me, eyes bright. "Is somesing vrong?" He bounced on the tip of his feet, apparently amused. "I heard people calling my name, and I vas just experimenting in ze back room."

I glared at him. "You worried us! You usually show up at least once in a few hours! We thought you were gone!"

He grinned, standing straight. "Vell, I am here!"

At that moment, I knew something was wrong.

Straight-back. Engergetic. Wide smile.

Whatever happened to slight hunch, exhausted air, and tired smile that involved him barely moving his lips and closing his eyes halfway?

"Medic. Are you feeling alright?"

His eye twitched almost imperceptibly. "Vhy vould I not be?"

"You are acting strangely. Did someone give you coffee again?"

"Coffee? What c-er, yes coffee," medic said. That was more than obvious.

I put a hand on his shoulder and looked at his eyes. They weren't blue. "Medic," I said slowly. "Your eyes are green."

"V-Vhat?" He seemed genuinely startled. I was almost fooled by it. Almost.

I jabbed him hard in the chest with my finger, and red static lines appeared around him. The red spy!

I yelped and staggered back. The man swiped at me with his knife. "Spy!" I yelled, and pulled out my ambassador gun. He pulled out a revolver and fired, but I narrowly avoided the bullet.

I swore as a second bullet tore open my suit sleeve. That would be a pain to fix up later. Rolling, I slammed into the red spy's shins, bowling him over and managing to get away in the process. I cloaked as the red spy ran past me. I hurried after him once I decloaked.

He heard me coming, and increased his pace, rounding a corner. There I came in contact with two soldiers glaring at each other.

The hopefully real soldier gave the other man a solid bash with his shovel. The other one fell and was revealed. Soldier grabbed his arms and yanked them behind his back. Drawing rope from god knows where, he tied the man's hands and looked over at me. "Get this frenchie to the cooler!"

"What cooler?" I asked blankly. "We don't have a cooler, and in case you forgot, I am French."

"Cooler! Containment cell! Prison! WHATEVER!" soldier screamed. He shoved the red spy to me and stormed off. I'd give my left arm to understand the soldier. Or not. He's not really worth it. I think he's insane.

With the red spy marching in front of me, I made my way to a locked room and sealed the red inside. He glared at me, through the observation glass. (AN: I'm not sure they had one-sided windows in the 1900s.) I locked eyes with him, and he blinked. Turning away, he muttered a few words.

I heard heavy boots and soldier came. He was holding a sewing needle.

"Uh, soldier? What is the needle for?"

"Oh, I'm going to interrogate the prisoner. Maybe he knows where our medic went, eh?"

"Maybe…but 'ow will a needle be of use, unless you plan to p…oh of course." I'd be surprised if the red spy lasted ten minutes. There are many ways to hurt a man with a pin. In soldier's case, probably with his bare hands.

The red spy looked apprehensively at the soldier. When he entered, I turned away and heard screaming and yelling, followed by a grunt of pain. I left.

I returned an hour later, curious and bored. Soldier stood there, and the red spy was sitting unconscious in a corner of the room.

"Well?"

"The red commies got an idea in their heads. They have our medic. We surrender, we get our medic. Normally I'd let him die. It's the course of duty!"

I opened my mouth to interrupt, but soldier raised a hand, forestalling me.

"Wait, soldier! We need this doc, cause he isn't insane, so we're gonna get him. We might want to tell heavy. He'll go crazy and bull into the red base to grab doc."

"Will that work? 'eavy will be shot full of bullets before we can get medic!" I said.

Soldier nodded vaguely. "We'll get a plan together, soldier! Look sharp now, and march to your room! I'll get a plan cooking tonight!" He stomped/marched off, whistling a patriotic tune. I don't get Americans.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooO

When it was four in the morning, soldier ran around violently waking us up. I had a locked door, so he placed a grenade and blew it down. Those with unlocked doors had ice water splashed on their faces.

Heavy was undisturbed. I wouldn't want to pour ice on heavy's face. I wouldn't live to tell you what it was like.

Soldier told us we had to catch the reds off guard. True, but I was asleep on my feet. So was everyone else. We all sat down and scout sat by me. He leaned his head on my shoulder and fell asleep, snoring lightly. Soldier rolled his eyes, I think. He should take off that helmet once in a while.

Sniper was the only one alert, and that was probably since he spends all day camping out and with a cup of coffee.

Pyro was asleep with his head on the table, and demoman by him. Soldier was babbling about something I was too tired to hear.

Eventually, soldier said my name and I perked up.

"Spy, you get your cigarette face through that secret entrance! Then, go in and get the medic outta there. Now, if you were listening, the other will be making a distraction up front, GOT IT?!"

I jumped, and muttered, "Y-Yes."

"Good. BOW GET YOUR SORRY ASS IN GEAR! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!"

We all ran from the room, not so much to obey the order, but to get away from the mad soldier yelling at us.

This seemed an infinite battle, so it sort of made sense the reds would take the medic and want this to end. Somehow, I knew that wouldn't work.

Scout asked soldier what the plan was about.

"WERE YOU EVEN LISTENING? A five year old could understand it! Get me a five year old!"

The 100% American is 99% idiot.

I snuck off to the red side, but noticed a faint beeping noise. The reds, it seemed, were up and awake. The engineer looked sleepy, and was leaning against the wall, staring blankly at his rotating turret. I could probably get a sapper on it if I could get closer. Unfortunately, the turret was in the doorway, and nobody should be coming back from the outside. Maybe if I cloaked and pretended to approach from within?

I went back to soldier. He was babbling sarcastic American comments.

"Love is a temporary insanity; the cure is marriage."

"What?" I asked.

"It is not necessary to understand things in order to argue about them!"

"What?"

"A good listener is usually thinking about something else!"

"Soldier, stop babbling proverbs and listen!"

Soldier turned to me. "What is it soldier?!"

"I need to get past the sentry. Can you draw the engineer's attention?" I pleaded.

He nodded. "I'll get the bastard's attention all right! The other men are storming the back, but I'll get the engineer to come away! A rocket here, a rocket there, and kablooie!"

"Soldier, I wish we were better strangers."

"So do I spy, so do I."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooO

Soldier's idea worked. He blew up some crates and engineer stood, going over. I slapped a sapper onto his turret once he was well away. I ran past, expensive shoes thudding on the metal floor. What a day/morning. Medic was kidnapped. Great.

I heard a commotion round back and knew the others were beating up the back of the building. My opinion of soldier gradually sinks, like an eight-ton weight.

I wondered if anyone of my team had helped with the kidnap, just to get the war over. Nah. A true ally stabs you in the front. Soldier was a devout patriot. I thought up a definition that applied to that. Patriot: The man who can holler the loudest without realizing what he is hollering about.

I snickered mentally and saw a split. A sign said: Left: Intelligence Right: Containment Bay.

I always liked the right.

I didn't take all that long to find medic. He was tied to a chair and gagged in a small room. He looked up and saw me through the glass. He shook his head and jerked his head to the right. I looked to my right and saw the red medic just coming in. I cloaked and stood in a corner.

The red medic had a tray with food, and was yawning. He looked remarkably like a two year younger version of our medic. He unlocked the cell and went in. Medic winked in my general direction. What was he scheming? I want to know what goes on in his mind sometimes. Actually, I don't. It would probably be nasty.

Red medic set the tray down and began removing the gag. When he went to untie our medic's hands, his eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to shout.

Our medic leapt up and clamped a hand over his mouth. I think that whoever tied his hands should learn his knots better.

Our medic drew his bonesaw from God knows where and placed it under the red medic's chin. I decloaked and went to him. "Wait! Don't kill him!"

Medic stopped, and looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "Figures you'd stop me. So, now is truth time. Ve have at least an hour before anvone looks for my red counterpart here, so do tell. What is going on here?"

"I just don't want him killed," I said lamely.

"Hmm. Vhy iz zat?" medic asked, raising the other eyebrow to create a look of utter skepticism.

"He saved my life once. He took a bullet meant for me."

"And he vill charge up that heavy and get him to kill you. You cannot possibly trust him."

The red medic looked between medic and myself fearfully. I felt sorry for him. He seemed a rather nice character on the train. "Just…please? S'il vous plait?"

"Bejahend. I vill leave your friend. I just needed to wait for someone to unlock the door and zhen I could escape. Tell ze soldier he's making an awful racket." Medic let red medic free and rushed past, lab coat bloodied. I wondered if it was his blood.

Red medic sighed, and slumped to the ground. "Danke," he breathed.

"Merci. I should thank you for taking that bullet," I said, sitting beside him. "I don't get this battle. It seems like the 'igher ups are just using us in a game."

The red medic fingered his lab coat sleeve. "Vell, zey are not ze most clear with zere papers. Zere vas no clear info on us actually getting home."

"By the way. Our medic said 'bejahend'. What does that mean?" I inquired. I never learned German. English, French, Spanish, and some Russian, but that's it.

"It means 'affirmative'. Does he take order fvrom you?"

"No, he does what he pleases. Now come on, let us move. You must get up, and I must return to my base," I said, hurrying away. I could feel red medic's eyes on my back the whole time.

When I was out, I saw medic yelling at soldier, and then stomping away. Soldier shrugged and fired a few more rockets into a window.

"Soldier," I said. "It is done."

He nodded. "Good work, soldier." Turning, he fled as well, the other blues just behind him. I made my way into the base, thoughts alternating between the enigmatic medic and the red doctor.

Inside, I checked the clock and saw it was six thirty. That much time had elapsed?

Scout tackled me and said, "Hey,wegotdocback."

"Get off me," I grumbled, shoving him away. "I think you could do with less sugar."

"Sugar?What'sthat?Ohyeahthatwhitestuffhehewhit estufflikecrackyouknowormeth orsomethingitsfunnyhahawaitw hyareyoumovingsoslowlygeez!"

I looked at him. "Scout, did you perchance, raid medic's chocolate stores since hw as out?"

"Yeahsowhathewasn'theresonotlikeitfuckingmatte rsanyway."

"Some of those chocolates contain materials like laxatives, hunger inducing stuff, sleeping aids. What did you eat?" I looked him over. He was hopping around like mad. For Christmas I'd buy medic a lock for his chocolate cabinet.

"Followmetodoc'splaceyaknowitsweirdhessobor ingrightnowhelookspissediate hischocolatesowhatbigdealitd oesntmatterhe'ssodumb." Scout hauled me to the med bay. Medic was staring hollowly at a bunch of emptry jars.

"Ten jars," he said, eyes wide. "Ten jars of chocolate all gone. Two jars of hunger inducing ones. Two milk chocolates. Four white chocolates. One with vitamin chemicals. One with extra sugar." He looked up at scout, and then at me. "Help me tie scout down."

"Dude," scout said. "Fuckingsickareyousomerapistt iemeupthat'snasty!" He backs away a bit. "Getfreakingawayfrommemanarey ousomegayrapistwoahbackaway!"

"Medic grabbed him and he jerked away. I snatched his arms and held them, but his foot connected with my shin. Mr. Foot wins. Ouch. I stagger away, and medic jabs something into Scout's arm. He collapses, and medic hauls him onto a bed. Tying him down with rope, he turns to me when he's done.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"Quite, even though I think my leg will never be the same."

Medic threw an evil eye at scout. "For Christmas I vill vish for a lock." Prophetic of my earlier idea.

"Is it that bad?" I ask casually.

"Yavore! I am surprised he has not yet had a heart attack! Let me get some anti-blood clot chemicals in his system." He jabs another needle into scout's arm. "It also makes sense that he ate so much, if he ate the hunger-inducing one at first." He looked at the slight slope of scout's stomach, and gestured towards it. "Zhere you go. Gluttonous Schweinhund!"

I laugh, and said, "Why do you have so much chocolate. I'm told it keeps you awake, but…."

Medic sighs. "I like chocolate, so I order it. Zere."

I am really tired, and am surprised medic isn't. "Why are you not tired?"

"I had a cup of coffee. Ze stuff eez nazty, but I had some."

That would explain why even though his eyes are red and there are darks spots under his eyes, he is sitting up straight.

"Vat happened to ze red medic?"

I freeze, and look at him. There is an expectant look in his eyes.

"Uh, I let him go?"

Medic looked at me for a while, and I squirmed where I sat. Creepy, that's how his eyes are. Creepy. German and creepy. He seemed to be analyzing and mentally dissecting my face.

I looked away, and I heard a thud. Medic had fallen over and was lying on the ground, asleep. So much for coffee keeping him awake.

I grabbed him and pushed him onto a bed, then left the infirmary.

I was exhausted, but heavy found me and started asking questions as fast as his minigun could fire bullets.

"'eavy, calm down!"

"How is doctor? Is he okay? Have reds been bad?"

"'EAVY!"

"Yes, tiny spy?"

"He is okay. He is sleeping. He must rest." I spoke slowly, in case his tiny head to body mass ratio meant he was stupid. "He. Is. Okay."

"Okay tiny man. Why you talk so slow?" Oops. So maybe he wasn't stupid.

Heavy walked away, and I went to my room. I slept the rest of the day away.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooO

At about four in the morning there was a loud rooster call. This was followed by a muffled curse, a gunshot, a squawk, and silence.

Soldier was plucking feathers from a chicken when I entered the kitchen.

"No sense wasting a bad alarm clock!" he rumbled. That doesn't even make sense. Alarm clock? Did he mean the rooster?

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooO

Sometimes I think that I don't belong on this team. Everyone is crazy. I'm not sure about pyro, since I never understand a word he says. Medic seems half-sane, just tired. I wonder about medic. He's very evasive when you ask about his past.

I've been here at the farm for a week now, and my total time working here is nearing one and a half month.

Some people were enjoying this farm life, and the fact that there was a steady stream of meat. Yum.

Today, at dinner, there was a table full of meat. Cow meat, pig meat, chicken meat. Various sauces stood in bottles on the side. I looked at them. I see that someone wants us to be purely carnivorous. Absolutely no form of vegetable. It was an odd thing. Heavy liked it quite well.

At night, there were strange lights at the red base. The reds were doing something. What were they doing there? Weird lights coming from the building. The weather was strange as well. Snow fell on some days, and on other's the sun exploded out and melted everything. On these days, you would hear medic hiss when light hit his face, and he'd shrink back into the building. When he came out, he was wearing sunglasses.

Is he maybe a vampire?

I should wrap my neck in cloth.

Medic woke me up one morning, rapping on the door and calling my name softly. Scout had come out of the infirmary a few days ago, and I wondered if this was related to scout. I got up and dressed, and then met medic in the hall.

"What is it?"

Medic's eyes darted around the hall. "Zhere is a situation."

"Huh? What situation?"

"The red medic wants to see you."

"How," I asked slowly. "Is that a 'situation', doctor?"

Medic drummed his fingers against his temples. "This is a situation indeed. How can you possibly think it is right? Even though the red medic may be a 'friend' or vatever you sink, but it is not allowed! Ze announcer she is working with-" He broke off and looked as though he just said something forbidden.

"Working with who? Is there some kind of plot?"

"No, no, no! Just-just don't let zem see you be friends. Zhey vill do anysing to stop it."

"Who is 'they'?"

"Just-just listen! If you absolutely must see zis red medic and you veally cannot bring yourself to kill him, zen meet in any place zey cannot see! Vhere zere are no cameras!"

"I am not going to die from not seeing him. However, if you are saying this to me now, won't 'they' now about it?" I asked. Medic looked demented, hair mussed up and a few beads of sweat on his forehead. His hair stuck up in the back and his lab coat was wrinkled. Did he get run over by a cow or something?

"Zhey cannot hear, zey just see. You must meet the red medic somevhere secure."

"Like where?"

"My lab," he said slowly, "Has no cameras. Rather, I fed a loop into it so it sees the same thing over and over."

"You, doctor, are very scary. You have a lot more skills than you show."

"Yes, yes. I've disabled the cameras for ten minutes. COME HERE, HERR DOKTOR!" He called to someone down the hall. Red medic appeared.

He looked nervously at the demented medic, and medic lead us to the med bay. "The loop is infinite. I will be back in twenty minutes. Be done chatting by zhen."

"Wait!" I said. "Chat?"

"Herr Doktor has something to say, nien?" Medic looked like he was about to collapse. He did collapse, and I know since I heard a thud outside.

I turned to Red Medic. "Why did you want to see me?"

"Vell, I just vant to clear somesink up."

"Yessss?"

He frowned, evidently unsure how to phrase his thoughts. I saw he was biting his lip, and then he said, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"Zhere are a lot of problems just because I stopped zat bullet, nien?" He looked apologetic. "I just vant to apologize and get it out of zee vay. Sniper has been bozering me about zat."

I nodded. "Nothing is wrong. I'll forget about it if you do."

The red medic looked relieved. "Vell, I vill go now."

He left, and a strangled cry had came suddenly from the corridor.

I leapt up and heard red medic apologizing. He had stepped on our medic's leg, who had been slumped against the wall.

My team's medic came in, rubbing his leg ruefully. "I must break my habit of falling asleep in ze hallways."

I laughed, and medic proceeded to fall asleep on one of the patient beds.

Leaving, I found scout walking sleepily along the corridor. He looked at me blearily, and brushed a lengthy strand of blonde hair out of his eyes. It looked weirdly cute. That was meant innocently, don't get any ideas.

Scout stumbled past, looking for all the world like a sleepwalker.

I found myself wondering about medic's strange outburst, talking about "them" and watching. Maybe he'd gone insane from lack of sleep.

I wondered how red medic got out without noticing. For that matter, how'd he get in? I shook my head. What a bizarre morning.

There was a strange commotion at the red base. No combat alarms had gone off, and the weird lights persisted every night. Pyro found me and asked me an obscure questions. Most obscure questions are because of complication. This obscurity was from a more overt lack of understanding. Gibberish.

"Vhh ggttt dd vd bss?" he asked, gesturing to the red base.

"What?"

He cleared his throat and said, "Veeehhh gt tt rdd bse?"

"'We go to red base'?"

Pyro nodded.

I thought about it. There _were_ weird things going on at the red area. I said yes, and we were soon sneaking along the side of the field to see the reds. Words snaked into my head unbidden.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Roses are lame,

Reds are too.

AN: Well, there you go. This wraps up another chapter. I'm wondering if the tubes in pyro's mask go all the way to his lungs. Maybe you'll find out. At any rate, I'm hoping this story doesn't suck, and if it does, feel free to say so. BTW: the OooooooooooooooO stuff is just a very bad divider. Plus signs and other symbols disappear so...yeah.


	5. Chapter 5: Sane, Sane, and Insane

AN: You may have noticed that the story progresses with actual deaths, rather then respawns. Ignore that, s'il vous plait. In this story, medic starts acting even stranger, scout steals spy's watch, and something is odd about the two teams. Please Note: similarities between medic and myself will begin to cease henceforth. I did not quite lose my mind yet.

I am spy. I was hired by BLU team several weeks ago, about one and a half months ago. Since then I've nearly died several times, encountered the son of a baguette that passes for a soldier, and been shipped to a farm. I am a French gentleman at home. Here, I am a guy holding a knife, hiding from the mad bastards that run about, ruining the field and making my expensive suit become splattered with blood.

I think I'm going to cry.

Last you read the thread of my pathetic life story (sob) I was following pyro to examine the reds mysterious set of events. Lights shooting out of windows, not showing up on the field (soldier was livid. He spent hours ranting that the red 'commies' were cowardly maggots that didn't deserve to exist.)

Pyro and I ran swiftly across the field. Snow crunched under our feet, and tripped over walking pork chops twice. A cow tried to eat my balaclava. Pyro set a chicken on fire, since it tried to peck his feet. I hoped that heavy didn't smell it and come out to eat it. That'd give us away. I do not jest, heavy would probably jump out the window and come after the chicken. Yeugh.

Pyro had gotten ahead of me while I stood thinking. He beckoned, and we slid into the red base.

"Wait," I said. I heard the faint beep of a sentry. Pyro may not have heard it on account of his mask. "A sentry is around the corner."

Pyro nodded and looked at me expectantly. I was the spy of course, but my sapper was acting funny. The wire on it shot back and forth across the dial. It usually did this when a tremendously strong magnetic force was nearby. That would explain why his watch was trying to drag him towards the hallway.

Pyro was examining his gun when suddenly it bucked, nearly flying out of his hands. His eyes widened behind the optical mask. "Mhht thhh hll?" What the hell?

A magnetic force was wrenching anything metal away! The sapper was sealed so the magnetism wouldn't work, but it still was going crazy. My knife was trying to get away from me too.

Around the corner, the sentry's steady beeping gave way to a series of violent screeches. There was the sound of metal as apparently the sentry was ripped from the ground. The red engineer's annoyed voice came around.

"Ah told them not to use that darn damn thing! There goes another sentry." The engineer followed by muttering some truly unrepeatable words and stomping away.

Meanwhile, the magnetism had died down, and our weapons were no longer trying to escape them. Pyro was scratching his head, and I bent down slightly to mutter to him, "Magnetism. Some kind of device in there, I guess."

Pyro nodded, and then pushed me around the corner. The sentry was on it's side, torn up from the ground. Its aiming light was on, but the whole thing was cracked in about ten thousand different places. Pyro and I walked gingerly past it, in case it wasn't as damaged as it looked. There was no cause for concern. Rather than right itself and shoot them, it gave a cough, and then exploded.

I waved away black smoke and looked towards a split. Left, right. Anyone have a coin? Or maybe a quick close-your-eyes-and-walk-until-you-go-a-certain-way would work.

I peered cautiously towards the left. There was a faint humming noise coming from there. "Left, my friend," I whispered. Pyro nodded affirmative and led the way.

"I am wondering what that noise is. Maybe the reds are experimenting with something. The red engie might be well…we'll see."

Pyro looked over his shoulder at me. "hhh whhch mw nmmm?"

"What was that?" I asked.

Pyro tugged at his mask, and then just remembered that he couldn't take it off. "hh whhch mw nmmm?"

"I am going to 'azard a guess. 'Which way now'?" I said.

Pyro nodded vigorously.

_And score one for the linguistic spy,_ I thought smugly. _I'm better at this then I thought, eh?_

Did you know I have the worst luck within eight thousand miles? It's true. I decided to run ahead of pyro, confident that I'd be fine. I ran straight into the red pyro. Oh, merde.

The red pyro looked at me, and screamed, "SPH! SPH! SPH NN MMPH!"

His teammates had better be damn good translators.

He set me on fire, and I was sure I was doomed. I ran for my life, leaving a glowing trail of embers in my wake. Ash coated the floor, and I was certain that I was going to be killed, by another red, or by my own flaming suit. I found a bathroom, and there was no sink, just a toilet. I froze, despite the fact that flames were eating my flesh. Did I have to…no way. Disgusting. NO!

I felt the flames continue to scorch my skin, and then let out a scream of exasperation. I fired a bullet into the toilet's workings, causing toilet water to spray all over me, dousing the flames. I felt a lot of nasty…objects splatter against me.

"This is disgusting," I mutter. Outside, I hear twin "mmph!"s. I had best go assist pyro. I know he can't be set on fire, but he still gets hurt by flames.

Pyro did not need help. When I arrived, he was whacking the dead pyro over and over with his flamethrower.

"Hhh, hhh, hh! HHHHhhhhhHHHMPHHH!"

WHACK! SMACK! THONK! THUD! SHNK! SMACK!

"A…pyro? That's enough."

"HHHHH!HH!"

THNK! THNK! THNK! SPLURCH!

Ew…is that his brain? This is a side of pyro I'd rather not see.

Pyro finally stops and pats my shoulder. "Yhh srvved." You survived.

"Yes, pyro. Thank you."

Pyro shrugs and points to the yellow-blue liquid I'm covered in. "Whhs mph sst?"

"This, my dear pyro, is _piss_, unless I'm very much mistaken."

Pyro doubles over laughing.

"Shut up," I said irritably. "Let's get a move on, and the enemy will hear your laughing, you know."

The strange magnetism activates once more, but we are ready this time.

We rounded a corner and stopped dead.

There are many ways to describe the sight I saw. I cannot think of any of those ways.

"Mon…dieu…."

A gigantic megaphone-like device sits. The red engineer is sitting by it. He is examining something. What the bloody hell is that?

Red engineer looks up and his eyes widen. "Spah-"

Pyro throws his shotgun. It strikes him in between the eyes and he falls over unconscious. Wow.

"Nice…er, throwing, pyro."

I creep over with pyro. The device has a label. "Magnetism Ray."

Fascinating. Like something out of a sci-fi novel.

What do you do with something out of a sci-fi novel? Of course, you study it meticulously and examine all its parts while-

Pyro throws some grenades into the devices center.

Or blow it up. That works too.

We run, and smack into the red heavy along the way. A quick stab, a burst of flame, and we are past! We run like mad, and only stop when we hear a magnificent explosion, and fragments of plaster hit our backs. The building, of course, is intact. The device is not.

Pyro laughs manically and runs past, flaming the air in a mad dance.

Did I ever tell you that pyro scares me?

Back at base, medic is sitting at the kitchen table, writing on some forms. He looks up. "Well, you two certainly had a busy evening. Get zat filthy suit in the wash, please. Zat is disgustink."

He does not question where we've been, but there is an odd glint in his eyes that tells me he knows…or thinks he does.

I'm too tired to care. I drop off and sleep, after throwing the sewer suit in the wash.

…

I awake to a familiar sensation. The sensation of a brat landing on my stomach and crushing the air out of me.

"SCOUT!" I scream. "GET THE-GYAAAAHHH OUT!"

"Dude, calm down. What's 'gyaaaahhh' mean anyway?" scout asks obnoxiously. He stands and smirks. "Wake up, sleepy snake."

"Get out! OUT!" I roar. Scout looks annoyed and leaves. I probably shouldn't have lost my temper. I feel bad, but scout's already stormed off. What's he so pissed about?…Oh yeah.

I go to the med bay, tired and seeing if medic has some sleeping aids. It's six AM, and medic is already up. He is mixing three green chemicals together and looking like a mad scientist. MUWAHAHA I WILL RULE THE WORLD! And all that fluff.

I like the word "fluff".

Wait, wot?

I shake my head. Next I'll be asking medic for insanity suppressants.

Sadly, medic is in a bad mood. He glares at me when I enter.

"Vat do you vant?"

"Er, do you have sleep aids?"

Medic rolls his eyes. "Go heat up some milk."

"I don't want to. Do you have sleep aids or not?" Is everyone's mood going to be bad today? "Do you?"

"Yes, yes. Take vone of these. No more than vone within every sthree hours or your heart vill stop. Then I'll have ze pleasure of carting your corpse into ze funerary room."

He tosses me a small box full of pills. It's labeled, "RAT POISON".

"Doctor," I said slowly. "This is rat poison."

He looks up, confused. "It is?"

He grabs it, and stares at it. I notice his appearance. Scruffy, and his eyes are unfocused. Has he been like, sitting up using drugs? I can't picture medic doing that. He still looks like he's contemplating the mystery of the universe as he stares at the box. Then he blinks in recognition.

"Oops. My bad. These are rat poisons." He hurls another box at me. "Here."

I look at it. "AMNESIA PILLS". Medic is really out of it. I bend down and place a hand on medic's forehead. I feel heat arc up my hand. He's boiling! Is he on fire, inside?

"Doctor, these are amnesia pills. You should rest. Were you up all night?"

He turns to me and laughs hollowly. "Night? Night. Nighty night." He stands and stumbles to the wall, leaning his head against it. Then, he mumbles a few words, and enters his private room. He locks the door.

I am worried, but now I'm scared. What in the name of all that is French and thus holy is going on here?

When medic arrives at the kitchen he is quite lucid again. I breathe out a sigh of relief. So he won't go mad. Medic acts like his usual self, so my mind wanders off.

When combat starts, I can't find my watch.

I search for half an hour, and must conclude it's nowhere to be found. I enter combat with a huff. No watch. No way to hide.

I frown slightly. I can manage…but, ah well. The red sniper is posing quite a threat. His bullets aren't hitting the head. They are hitting limbs, appendages. Our soldier collapses, clutching his knee. "YAH!" If soldier was a megaphone, he'd be stuck on the loudest setting. I disguise as the red medic and make my way to behind the sniper. The bastard has his razorback. When he sees me he looks at me suspiciously.

"Doc? Weren't you down there with th' heavy just noiw?" He frowns, and takes out his kukri.

"Yavore. I vent to heal ze soldier, but I'm here now. I must recover."

He looks at me, and then shouts, "Spoi!" and takes a solid slash at me. I thought I played my part well.

His giant knife (It shouldn't be called knife. More like a knife on steroids.) slices my left shoulder open.

"Eeyagh!"

I back away, clutching my shoulder. "Ze sniper is a spy!" I yell.

He glares at me and kicks me in the stomach. My disguise remains. I draw my revolver and plant in his shoulder. I fire, and blood flies out in a gory mess. He screams and swears violently.

"You bloody spoi! GAH!"

A stray bullet hits him in the back, and he collapses.

I thank whoever shot it and disguise as him. Red medic runs past me, bending down to the real sniper. He looks at me, and then runs away without a word.

Setting it aside, I see the red demo, singing a song and swigging scrumpy. Since I joined, as far as I know, nobody has died. That is no longer true. I see our demoman over there…and there, and there, and there, and….

I rush up to him and bury my knife in his back. "There ya' go!" I shout, as my disguise wavers.

I flee, cursing the lack of my watch.

I see scout flicker into appearance. Wait, _flicker?_

"SPY!" I shout, and I stab at scout. My knife slices his arm open, and he yells. "Dude, what the hell was that for?!"

I ignore him and stab again, but I freeze when he speaks. "Is this about the watch? I'm sorry, I took it, but you know, you kind of annoyed me this morning."

I stare at him. "You…you took my watch?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Scout…." I want to punch him. I really do. Or feed him to a cow, except the cows wouldn't touch him. Suggestions? "I really needed my watch."

Scout opens his mouth to answer, but then our medic's voice rings out.

"Fascinating. Scout utilizing ze cloak vatch. Zis could be a development."

I whirl, and am just in time to see medic running back into the base. Running? Has the world gone mad in the last ten seconds? Medic never runs. Unless there are bombs everywhere and he should run.

Scout, on the other hand, looks positively miserable. If regret had a solid form, it would be scout. Etched on his face is a sad thing; a dark, regretful face.

Emotional, much?

I cannot help but think there is something wrong. The battlefield has gone quiet, and the reds are all gone. What the hell?

"Mon ami," I murmur. "Where have the reds gone?"

Scout looks over. "Weird. Battle's not over yet."

"Precisely."

I return to our base, and note that engie and medic are nowhere to be found. Soldier is talking about demo, who is now in several bite-sized (eugh! Nasty image!) pieces. The two never got along, but in the end, despite their yapping, were friends.

Scout is looking around, as though searching for something.

"What's wrong, scout?" sniper asked, noting scout's behavior.

"You guys hear that?"

We all pause (except heavy. He starts humming a Russian tune.) and here a faint clanking noise. Soldier frowns. "Sounds like it's coming from the doc's room."

Glances are exchanged, and then soldier pats my back. "Well, spy, you are perfect for this job! Go see what doc's up to." With that, he shoves scout and myself out.

We stare back at the war room, and then head towards the med bay. When we enter, we aren't sure what to expect.

Medic and engineer stand amidst a pile of twisted metal and what appear to be weapons. There are some documents on the floor.

Engineer looks bored, and medic is in the stage after bored (asleep, in case you don't know.) and lies slumped against the wall, still holding a metal bat.

Scout looks at engineer. "The hell happened here?"

Engineer grimaces. "Doc's gone mad. Called me up and told me to help slap together some stuff." He gestures towards the objects scattered about. "Beats me what this lot are for."

Scout takes the bat from the dozing medic. He examines it. "Looks just like my bat, except there are wires around the handle…and a button on the bottom…?"

Medic stirs but does not open his eyes. "Engie…dat you? Ze bat…press button…" He yawns and falls asleep again.

Scout presses the button and I watch in fascination as scout is surrounded in white steam. A moment later, he has disappeared! "Scout!"

"Hey, this is freaking cool!"

I stop, and engineer squints at the stop scout was. He leans forward and pokes the air. It shimmers in the shape of scout.

"Ow! My stomach! Hey, there's is a tiny screen thingy here…eight green energy bars. Seven, six…."

"A cloak bat? No way. Doc, you seein' this?" engie asks, mouth agape.

Medic is still asleep. Of course. He wakes up easily, but when he's really tired, he'll sleep through anything.

Almost.

When medic heard engineer say that his "device" was a success, he bolted awake with a half cheer-half screech of pain. I saw that his right arm was heavily bandaged. What was going on there?

Sometimes I wish medic would confide in someone. He always looks depressed. I wonder if he hurt himself on accident or on purpose?

Medic walked over to scout and yanked the bat from him(how'd he know where he was?) and then pressed the button. The bat decloaked.

"Zis is an experimental veapon, ze cloak bat, nien?"

"Are we even allowed to use non Mann Co. tools and weapons?" I asked.

"If ze reds can have a magnet gun, we can have a phantom bat, yes?"

"How do you know about that?" I inquired. How much does medic know? About the reds? And everything?

"My dear Frenchman, I know much more than you zink. Now engie, thank you for the help," medic said. Engineer nodded and left.

Scout looked at the stuff scattered everywhere. There was a blender on the ground, attached to two colanders.

"What's this?" scout wondered aloud, picking up the blender. "For smoothies?"

Medic looked at him angrily. "SMOOTHIES?" His voice remained quiet but it may as well have been a shout, there was that much force behind it. "Zat, scout, is a neuron device that can hopefully, in ze future, switch brain electrode patterns, allowing mind transfers!"

Scout nodded and backed away. "Sorry doc, I uh-"

Medic was on a roll now. He picked up a syringe gun with green markings. "Zis has chemicals zat vill knock out even a bull." He grabbed a can of BONK!, and held it up. "Zis now has twice the effect time!" Tossing that aside, he held out a butterfly knife. "Zis sets whoever is stabbed with it on fire!"

I stepped forward, and medic handed it to me. "Impressive. Does it work?"

"Yes," medic said hesitantly. "But it also sets you on fire. I'll have to vork on zat vone, yes?" He examined the knife critically, and then went into his private quarters, muttering words under his breath.

Scout looked at me. "He's gone, spy. Just gone."

I could only agree.

…

The next three days were even stranger. Medic rarely came out, but explosions constantly came from the med bay. The reds were no-shows on the field, and the new demo arrived. Soldier was getting beyond restless. Last night, he started screaming angry words and pounding on the war room walls.

If soldier is killed, will they find someone just like him? Are all Americans eye-shading and rumor-spouting?

One day, as I wandered down the halls, soldier approached me, hefting a dictionary. He looked in my eyes. "If," he began. "I hit you with this dictionary, is it verbal or physical abuse?"

I stare at him, stunned, and he brushes past me.

I know can confirm it; Americans are crazy.

Pyro comes up to me, glancing back at soldier. "Crrzy sldrm." I notice pyro is holding a stuffed pink unicorn. Somehow, I don't find it funny. I pretty much expected pyro to be like that.

Pyro hugs the unicorn closer and says, "Sldrr wnmt t snne smm."

"What was that?"

"Sldrr. Wnt. Ttt. Insnn silmmm."

"Insane asylum? No way."

Pyro nods vigorously. "Hhh ws hht brr nd hhh trmm tm kll brtndr snnce hss brr hd a fll inm im."

"I don't know what you just said. Can I hazard a guess about a fly in a drink?"

Pyro nods again.

"Wow," I mutter. "I was just guessing."

Pyro walks away, humming under his mask. I can't help but think that he's oddly cheery for a pyromaniac.

His mask has the words "optical mask" on them. What's that about?

I shake my head, clearing these thoughts away. No time to think about that.

Actually, what _am _I supposed to do? No combat, no chores (except cleaning the bathroom, and I will burn in hell before I do that.) and no reason to even be here.

Medic walks past me, holding a bundle of wires. I recognize them as the wires from the back of the security cameras. What was that about? He still looks like he hasn't slept for a year. Odd.

I heave a great sigh, and go to my room for a lie down. Obviously, scout has intruded on my space yet again, and is going through my tie drawer.

"Thinking of stealing all my ties now?"

He jumps, and looks at me. "Oh, just you. Look, sorry about the stupid watch, okay? I was just looking around…."

"For something to steal?" Perhaps I should not sound so accusing, but then, he did take my watch.

"Oh, whatever," he stalks out. "Engineer was looking for you," he calls over his shoulder. Engineer? What?

I head to engineer's room. There goes my afternoon nap. I wanted to sleep, even if just for ten minutes. I'm tired, just tired.

I knocked on engineer's door, and he opened it. "Hey, spah. Ah need ya to take a look et this." He waves me in and shuts the door.

He shows me something lying on the table. I stop. It's a severed hand, sitting in a tray, twitching. I breathed in sharply, and reached for a calming cigarette. Engineer slapped it away.

"Not now," he grunted. "I've got some flammable stuff in here." He gestures towards what seems to be a collection of oil container. Why in the name of cheesy French bread does engie have oil?

Engineer gestures towards the hand. "Guess where I got that."

"A dumpster?"

"No."

"Morgue?"

"Nope."

"Medic? Nah-"

"Yep."

"Yeah," I said sarcastically. "And medic likes to reanimate severed hands."

"Exactly. Do you know why that's bad?"

"Uh…isn't he a medic?"

"YES!" engineer hissed. "And you know what? He's acting like _an actual medic!_" He frowned.

"How is that bad? Has he not been medic?"

"Yes! Yes! He is the medic, but he never acts like any of the other medics, going crazy. The others aren't chocolate-distributing and helpful. THEY are the 'do you still need your ribs? You do? Aw.' Kind."

I let engineer's words sink into my head. So, medic is starting to act like a normal medic. I still think that's not too bad.

"Also," engineer cut into my thoughts. "I saw him melting his chocolate."

Alright, something's wrong.

…

Engineer brought me to medic's place. I was against it. Let him be that way, I said to him. I mean, it isn't that bad. After all, it's normal for a medic right? The nice mask must have just cracked.

I wish.

Medic was laughing, and the med bay doors were glowing. I didn't want to go inside. Cold air was flowing out.

Engineer looked at me somewhat fearfully.

I turned my attention back to the glowing, eerie door. "Medic?" I called out weakly. The glowing and laughing ceased abruptly. There was a sharp intake of breath.

Finally medic called out, "C-Come in."

I was dragged in against my will be engineer. Inside, it was the strangest sight. Medic stood surrounded by papers, some torn, others bound by staples. Even more oddly, there were doves flitting about, cooing and eyeing us beadily. Doves?

Engineer looked sickened. Medic was glowing faintly, and blue light swirled out of the medi-pack on his back.

Medic looked at us acidly. "Vat are you doing here?"

"Wondering," I said. "Why you 'ave gone mad. Or rather, become like all the other medics before you. Are you channeling one of their spirits? I read a boom on exorcism once." I was in no mood to joke, and yet here I was babbling about spirits.

Engineer went over and stared straight at medic. "Doc, yer've gone crazy."

Is that how you talk to insane people? By walking up to them and informing them of their mental instability?

Medic stepped back from engineer. A dove landed on his shoulder, and he stroked its side slowly. "I vas…experimenting."

"Yeah, I see that. And your experiments aren't exactly in your usual range of stuff. I got a question for you. Ya slept at all these past few days?"

Medic seemed thoughtful. "Nien."

"Okay, engineer. He is just tired. No need to panic. We can leave 'im alone now." I begin to inch away, but engineer grabs my arm and whispers to me, "He's gotten plenty of rest. Slept for hours on end. I tell you, something's up, and I want to know what."

"'ow do we deal vith something that medic should deal with?"

"Do we have a medic to have fix this?"

"Ye-oh wait…."

Engineer nodded. "Kinda hard to have an insane doctor diagnose himself."

Medic could hear every word, I'm sure, but he was whispering to the dove that sat on his index finger. The dove cooed and pecked his hand affectionately.

I am now officially scared of medic.

A few more doves hopped around. Engineer looked to be thinking about what to do, and a dove was nibbling on his foot.

One brave dove landed on my head. I tore off my mask, causing the bird to flap away. A moment later though, it came back and sat in my hair, nudging my head with its beak. "I am not going to be a…BIRD SANCTUARY!" I screamed, and tried to bat the dove off. It simply ducked and my hand swatted nothing.

I screeched a few choice words and tried to crush the bird, but suddenly, in a blur of white, medic stood in front of me, leaning in slightly. His hand reached up and traced my forehead, tickling the skin and causing me to shiver. A moment later, his hand reached the dove, and the tiny white bird hopped on, warbling a song. Medic backed away, and I realized I'd been holding my breath.

Engineer was still staring at medic with a thoughtful expression. Had he really done nothing while medic virtually teleported, moving a _lot_ faster than medic usually does? I shivered, and took a few steps back. Medic spun on his heels and seemed to reappear in front of his private quarter's door. He bowed, grinning, and went inside. The doves followed, and when the last bird got its little feathery tail in there, medic closed and locked the door.

My knees gave out and I collapsed, feeling like I'd just walked through a tornado.

Engineer's eyes widened as he saw the torn papers. He bent down. "What in the name of beef behind…?"

"What is it? Maybe medic's plot to take over the world?" I asked. I was well and truly disturbed.

Engineer glared at me, and then shoved a torn sheet in my face.

My eyes crossed, and I read aloud, "'October 19th Entry.' Wait what? Is this his journal or something?"

Engineer stood back, eyes darting back to medic's door. "The words are all smudged and the papers torn. The other papers are blank. Something's up with the doc."

"Leave him! He's acting like a nazi scientist! Scary!"

There was a bang from inside medic's room, and medic threw open the door. "Vhat," he asked calmly. "Did you just say?"

Engineer looked at me, and then back at medic.

Medic was livid. "Did you say 'nazi'?"

"Non!" I trembled slightly.

Medic's right eye twitched, and then he went back into his room, the door swining shut behind him.

I want to quit right now and run as far as I can from medic.

Engineer crouches down to talk to me. "Never say 'nazi' in front of medic, whether he's sane or not, okay?"

I nod. "Can I flee for my precious French life now?"

Without waiting for an answer, I run, putting as much distance I can between medic and myself.

Engineer did not follow. I heard him gathering up papers in the med bay. Fine, but when medic comes out and tries to eat him or something, it's not my fault. I bet medic has gone for cannibalism. Maybe he takes off his shirt and dances around a fire at three in the morning. Maybe the birds are sacrificial. And maybe if I'd been paying attention to where I was walking instead of thinking these ludicrous thoughts, I'd not have walked straight into a wall.

Ow, my poor nose. May it rest in peace.

Heavy came down the hall. I wonder if he'll notice the difference in doc? Who could not notice?

Heavy grinned at me. "TINY SPY! IS GOOD TO SEE YOU! YOU HAVE SEEN DOCTOR?"

That man's Russian voice box is set on "loud". Speaking of Russian, back in francs, I saw a comic. It showed a man standing by a glass box that they usually put fire extinguishers in. It said "Break Glass in Emergency". Except, there was a sickle and gun inside it. Duh.

Heavy doesn't let me reply, and heads to the med bay. What will medic do, nail heavy to the wall and cut out his beating heart? Ugh, I must curb this active imagination.

Scout was in my room, fuming. My room is my room. Scout seems to won the entire base. Except, now that medic's gone off the deep end….

"What 'as annoyed you know?" I growl, glaring at the sour-faced scout.

"Doc is annoying! I went in and saw him melting all his chocolate! What the f-!"

I slapped a hand on his mouth. "Don't even so much as swear when talking about medic right now. He'll probably hear and hang you by your thumbs."

"What?"

"Medic 'as…" I pause. What do I say, that he's lost his mind? "'as…gone insane. Literally. So, not good."

"WHAT?"

"You are repeating yourself."

"WHAT?!"

"Scout-"

** "WHAT?!"**

"Listen to me! I don't know what happened to medic, but engineer has his journal. Medic's poured ink over most of it, but we might get some hints." I heave a sigh. "Something very odd is going on. Reds are not showing up. Doctor goes insane. You steal my watch."

"That's not strange!"

"Yes," I mutter. "Yes it is."

Scout mopes for an hour in my room, and I doze. I wake up to scout shaking me violently. I look up into his face groggily. "Scout… what time is…?"

"It's eight at night! Get up! Engie wants you."

I bolt up and run past scout. Scout follows behind me, and I barge into engineer's room. "Engineer!" I shout. Silence, and emptiness. "If medic hasn't yet come in and cut out your organs, answer me!"

Engineer calls out from behind a crate. He sounds weak. "I-I'm here…."

I hurry over, with scout just behind.

"Holy shit!" scout screams. I cover my ears. That boy is as loud as soldier. Check that, nothing on earth is louder than soldier.

Engineer is bleeding, badly. Several gash marks lace his body. His forehead is bloody, and his throat is bruised.

"Dude, I was talking to you five minutes ago!" scout yelled.

"C-Calm down, son. Y-Yelling won't help me."

I bend down. "Was it…." I can't say it.

Engineer nods. "It was. Doc really is gone." He hacks up blood, and then holds out some slightly bloodied notes.

I grab them, and take the first page in hand….

AN: I understand this is shorter than the other ones. It was also slightly rushed due to family-related events. My sincerest apologies. Mach schnell, Herr Doktor! Los, los!


	6. Chapter 6: Doc?

AN: Please bear with my unrefined, strange style of writing. It's rather abrupt and course, but perhaps I will fine-tune it in the future.

Summary of Events: Thus far, the blue spy has joined the BLU team. There, he meets a strangely friendly scout, an exhausted medic, and many odd characters that make up blue team. The rivalry between red and blue seems staged, like some kind of bizarre game. Medic is paranoid of the cameras and knows something he is not telling. As of last chapter, something strange happened to medic and he is point-blank insane at the moment.

When something scares you, how do you deal with it? Run away? Fight? Investigate? I chose the third.

With shaking hands, I took the bloodied papers from engineer's hands. He looked up and threw me a meaningful look. Then, his head lolled, and his eyes shut.

Scout looked on, wide-eyed, as I sorted through the documents. Journal sheets. Blood smeared their surface, and as far as I could tell, it was engie's blood. Most of the pages were covered in black ink, unreadable, but then I found a few untainted sheets.

"'Oct 19th'," I began. My voice shook. "'We have a new spy. He is not a bad sort, I must say, although he seems a little too nervous to be an assassin. Despite that fact that we have been fighting without a spy for several days, I must say it's a relief to have one. Much less, one who isn't a raving lunatic dummkopf. Despite his presence, I cannot stay and celebrate. I have been visiting the video…' 'uh? Scout, the rest is blacked out." I set down the paper.

Scout grabs another sheet and scans it. "October 20th!"

"Read it," I say, going over to look over his shoulder.

"'I am afraid that "they" might have realized what I've done with the security camera. When I woke up, I found someone had reset it. Who? The base is secure, and even our employers cannot come in unnoticed. I have the faint suspicion one among us is a plant from "them". I can't just go kill everyone in the base, however. I'm tired. I have got to rest now.'" Scout set down that page. He turned to me. "Who the hell is 'them'?"

"I 'ave no idea. Are there anymore intact pages?"

Scout sifted through them, and finally snatched one. "This is the next closest, October 25th." His eyes narrowed. "It's freakin' short."

"Just read it!"

"'I don't have much time. I will say the spy we got is skilled enough. I am worried that they know what I'm up to, but then, they have every reason to. I don't think I can do much. Any idiot who has watched a movie can tell I stand no chance against a power such as this.' Wow, doc's already lost his marbles here. What day is it now? November uh…21st?"

"I don't remember…Any other papers?"

"Um," Scout said. "I know this is cool and all, like I don't know, maybe medic is some weird spy or something, but engie is gunna bleed ta' death and then we're all screwed, ya'?"

I started at his words and rushed to engineer. I heaved him up on one shoulder, and scout lead me to the regenerator, where we set engineer down. The blue rays washed over him, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Scout sorted through more journal sheets, muttering under his breath. I took the time to examine the room.

There was a bone saw in the corner, coated in blood. There were more torn up papers, and-I paused. Dove feathers were everywhere, and I'd only now noticed it. There was a good deal of blood that could not have been engineer's; he'd not been injured that severely. Medic must've been hurt and engineer must have struck him.

Scout clapped a hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump and swear. "Ack! Be a little more subtle, will you?"

"Jumpy, snake man? I found November 1st, next one over." He waved the sheet in front of my face, and I snatched it.

"Rather recent," I muttered. "'This is too much. They have sent warnings; after all, sheets of blood-red paper and soldier complains possessions are stolen. Keinen Erfolg haben. I bring bad luck. They want me, quite obviously, to just let all this go. Act like a normal medic. They have stolen items, made me deliberately get injured, yet not die. What is this hell of a service? The announcer, _she_ is most certainly strange. How can she be reporting on both teams? I know for certain it is the same woman. I have attempted to hack the terminal, but I am insufficiently skilled with computers. Perhaps the spy can help? Or not. It could be disastrous to reveal this to anyone. I am alone in this, and I will see myself a way out, or drag them down with me.'" I grimaced. "Intense. What do you think, scout?"

Scout scratched his head. "I think doc's gone bonkers."

"Is that even a word? 'Bonkers'?"

"Yep."

"No way."

"Hell yeah."

"That can't be. It must be some amercicano slang."

"No, it's a word, just shut up and accept it!"

"NO! It's-"

"You two have got to be the most dang dumb thing a'hve ever heard and seen."

Scout and I nearly leapt out of our skins. Engineer was standing, stretching and glaring at us reproachfully.

"You two, arguing about whether a word is a word, and meanwhile, medic gets farther and farther away."

"Engie." Scout said. "What the fuck happened?"

Engineer sighed. "S'pose you oughta know. I was worried, so I went to check on doc. He was writing something, but when he saw me he set the paper on fire. I'm not exactly sure what I did then to anger him, but he started trying to cut me to pieces. I ran back here, and I didn't know what to do." He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "Then…and then he started trying to kill me. I thought I was as good as dead, and then he suddenly started cutting his own arm open. Damn, he was screaming something awful. Then, before ya' know, he's run off. I asked ya' to get spah, but after…that's when I checked up on doc."

I realized I was shaking slightly. Why, I reasoned, would medic just snap? It didn't make any sense. I did not want to believe it, but somehow, I believed engie more. Perhaps because I saw medic virtually teleport and snatch a dove off my head.

Scout spoke with a strangled voice. "Where-where's doc?"

"I'll bet mah skills as an engineer that he's run off. Not to the med bay, I'll bet, probably outside the base."

I stood rapidly. "Let's go."

Engineer grabbed a shotgun, and I turned a sideways glance to him. "What is that for? Are you going to shoot medic?"

"Nah. Maybe, if he's trouble."

Scout stared at us, and then slowly took out his Lugermorph. "Fine, let's go find doc now!"

The cold air was perfect for the mood. All we needed now as eerie music.

It really wasn't that difficult. There was a steady blood trail leading out the doors and towards the farm walls. Engineer's eyes darted back and forth, making sure nothing was going to jump down at us. There was a strange chill in the air that had very little to do with the temperature.

Scout's teeth were chattering, and finally a grabbed his lower jaw and forced it against the upper. He froze, and then swatted my hand away. "The hell was that for?"

"Your teeth are chattering away like a mouse! Be quiet!"

Engineer grinned at me. "Not the shining example yourself, eh?"

"Shut up."

The blood trail we were following proved irritating. It suddenly stopped some thirty meters out.

"He is a medic. Makes sense he could fix himself up," engineer muttered. He crouched and examined the blood. "He's bleeding a right ton, he is!"

Just then there was a twanging noise. Acting on instinct, I tackled scout and just saved him from a crossbow bolt that soared over my head. Crossbow bolt?

"Engie, ya' might wanna look up," scout gulped.

Medic stood on the tall stone wall, lab coat covered with blood. His left arm was bloodied and bandaged. His right held a Crusader's Crossbow. It was not set to healing bolts.

Medic stared down at us, eyes red and disturbing. A fine fog swirled around his head as he breathed arduously. "Go avay! Go back to ze base!" he screamed. There was a hitch in his voice. "Go back!" With that, he jumped off the opposite end of the wall. I expected a cracking noise any second, seeing as the wall was about 16 feet high. Instead, I heard the faint noise of feet landing on grass, and then the steady patter of retreating footsteps.

Engineer's mouth was hanging slightly open as he stared at where medic was a moment ago. I knew he was friends with medic, but this was just too strange.

Scout glared at the wall, and then took three steps back. I glanced at him. "What are you doing, scout?"

"I'm gonna get over that freaking wall."

"No way, that's 16 feet."

Scout shrugged and then dashed towards the stone structure. His legs were a blur, and he ran straight up the wall! He stood at the top, and looked out into the night. "No sign of doc," he reported. I heard the nervous tension in his voice.

Engineer sat against the wall, looking like a defeated man. In many ways, he _was_, although, I wasn't sure why he continued to worry for medic, who was very obviously now a maverick.

I saw a flock of doves soar over our head. Scout stared up at the white cloud, and then lifted his Lugermorph. "Fucking birds…stupid medic," he grumbled. Before I could stop him, he fired four shots, and three birds fell out of the night sky.

Medic, were he here, would be angry.

A glowing bolt came out of nowhere and slammed into scout's chest. He had only time to open his mouth before he toppled off the wall.

Okay, so maybe medic _is_ here.

"Scout!" I yelled. No, no!

Scout was bleeding badly. A bolt was lodged in his left lung. Blood leaked out from around the edges. "Scout!" I considered taking out the bolt. Would that work? Or would it be worse? Now more than ever we need a medic. What shall I do, walk over to the doctor and say, "Oh, I'm sorry. Can you stop being an insane idiot and help scout?"

Engineer was whacking something with his wrench. I spun around to glare at him. "NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR ENGINEERING INTERESTS!" I yelled. Then I saw what he was building. A dispenser.

Engineer swiveled his head to me. "I am building a dispenser, spah, so shut yer mouth and watch me work. See if ya can keep pressure on the area around the wound, but don't press too hard, you'll just create more holes in his lungs." He sighed. "Ya' know, when medic first came, scout split open his skull. I got him to mah dispenser, or doc would be dead now." A dark look stole over his face. "Course, ah didn't know he'd go madder than a bull with a needle in its arse."

Nice image, I thought. I heaved scout over and pressed lightly around the bolt. "Won't pressure just make it worse?"

"Yeah, maybe, but my dispenser doesn't give blood. It'll close that whackin' wound, but won't give back blood, so keep doin' that."

Keep watching scout's lifeblood leak out around my fingers? Joy.

I watched with increasing nervousness as engineer worked on the dispenser. Could he not hurry up? I knew dispensers took a while to build, but scout would be dead in a minute or two, and without a mad scientist by me, this wasn't going to end well. "Can you hurry up?!" I finally hissed.

Engineer looked at me mildly. He stopped and crossed his arms. "Spah, yer chokin' the boy."

I noticed then that one of my arms was around his neck. I hastily drew it away. Engineer squinted at scout.

"He's not coughing up blood. Could be good, or bad, since it could mean all his blood be at his chest. Spah, sit him upright against my dispenser."

The dispenser had finished constructing itself. Blue lights crept out slowly, and then darted at the bolt.

"Pull the thing out now!" engineer suddenly shouted. "Or it'll seal into his flesh!"

I yanked out the projectile, causing scout's unconscious form to spasm slightly. The healing rays set to work on the awful wound. I could see the reddened flesh, and the purple lungs. One of the ribs was cracked and visible. I held back a wave of revulsion. It wouldn't do scout any good if I threw up on him.

Engineer bent down by scout and examined the gap in his flesh. The dispenser was already sealing the skin and regenerating torn tissues, but when it was all done, a dark red scar remained. It resembled an "X".

Scout's eyes fluttered, but he did not wake. He muttered incoherent words and collapsed again, sinking into a dark, cold coma. I choked back a cry of worry.

Engineer was glaring at medic's blood. He stood, and then used his feet to mix scout's blood with medic's. "What are you doing?" I asked. When he turned to me, I saw the true weight of medic's fleeing reflected in his eyes. Wordlessly, engineer turned and left, leaving me out in the cold night with a comatose scout.

…

Scout remained unconscious for a whole day. Engineer was locked in his room, and I sat by scout in the med bay, worrying. The others on the team came in, but asked no questions. Pyro did enter with a fire axe, and I nearly screamed in shock.

Then, though, he produced a plate with a pancake on it, and I grinned, feeling the skin stretch around my mouth. I felt as though I'd not smiled in years.

Pyro sat down on the end of scout's bed too, causing some ash to swirl around. I blew on the particles, chasing them away. Pyro handed my the plate, which I took gratefully. I ate it with my hands, unrefined for a French spy perhaps, but did you expect me to find a fork? The only sharp objects in the medical bay are nasty torture tools, or at least, that's how they looked when medic wasn't there, smiling tiredly and explaining them slowly.

I could almost imagine medic coming back in suddenly, but two days passed with no action. Heavy was worried, but kept quiet, to his credit.

Scout stirred on the third morning. I was asleep, head slumped on the bed, when pyro shook me awake. "Smmmh mmmk!"

I bolted upright to see scout stir. He rubbed his eyes, and I drew in a sharp breath.

"I'm hungry."

Pyro fell onto the ground, laughing and laughing. I just stared, and then nodded slowly. I really wasn't sure scout was going to wake up.

Scout saw pyro rolling around, and frowned. "What?"

I got a glass of what was hopefully water and handed it to scout. He chugged it down, setting it aside with a sigh. "Shit, that was awesome." He looked around, blinking owlishly. "How long was I out?"

"Two days," I said. "And I was ready to cremate you."

He gasped. "Two days? Damn it. Wait…what about doc?"

Pyro stopped laughing, and sat up slowly. "Gnnn."

Pyro knew what had happened. Engineer told him, but made him promise to tell nobody else. Either the higher ups were going to send a replacement, or our doc was coming back.

"He's really gone?" scout inquired blankly.

"Ysss." Pyro was very blunt. His axe, I reflected, was not.

Scout hung his head, and then a growling noise came from his stomach. Pyro laughed softly, and then stood to go to the kitchen.

"Wait," I said. "Medic had food in here." I strode over to the fridge. A sandwich, a syringe, and a bottle of red wine. Wait, wine? No time to ponder that. I grabbed the sandwich and handed it to scout. He set to it with fervor, devouring it in seconds. He sat back, and looked at me. "I'm still hungry."

"Asleep for two days, you would be," I replied. "But there is nothing else edible in this fridge."

Pyro pointed to a cabinet, but I shook my head. "That's medic's chocolate cabinet."

Pyro looked at me, head tilted. "Whh?"

"The chocolate in there…has many, ah, interesting traits."

"Lkkkkh?"

"Some have sleep aids, some vitamins, whatever."

Pyro swung open the cabinet and found a jar of plain milk chocolate.

"Wait!" I said, alarmed as pyro brought it to scout. I was a tad late.

Scout tore open the jar's cap and started eating the chocolates with incredible speed. He was going to get sick like that.

I tried to pry the jar from scout, but he bared his teeth at me and I backed away. Is there something in the chocolate? That makes people instantly addicted to it? I won't put any of it in my mouth. Ever.

Scout continued to scarf down chocolate like it was fueling his life. Pyro looked amused and offered another jar. I tried to take it from him, but scout had already grabbed it and began eating from it.

I rolled my eyes and pushed pyro out of the room, lest he be tempted to give another jar. When I returned to the room, scout was groaning and rubbing his belly.

"See? Honestly, what the 'ell ees in that chocolate?!"

Scout smiled sheepishly. He rubbed his blonde hair. "It's good."

"Yes, and medic has gone insane and run off. Suggestions?" My voice took on a faint tone of sarcasm. "'ow do you propose we dill with it?"

Scout sat up higher in the bed. "Well, doc's run off, but he can't have gone that far, right? I mean…he's on his own freaking feet!" Scout paused to bend over and rub his stomach. "Ow…."

"You have not eaten in a couple of days, and you suddenly inhale two jars of chocolate with unknown properties. If your stomach hurts, that's your fault, eediot," I hissed.

Scout gave me wide, pitiful eyes. "Come on. Don't be like that. That's mean. Now you can even give me a belly rub to make up for it."

I threw the nearest object within reach (A book on medicinal herbs) at scout. He caught it, showing good reflexes. At least his muscles hadn't atrophied while he was unconscious. "Shut up, you gay little puppy. Now, to business." I sighed. "Engineer has locked himself away. I wonder…."

Scout threw me a blank look. "Wonder what? And don't call me puppy."

"Then don't ask for me to rub your stomach. Sounds like a dog's request. Now enough of that. Medic has gone somewhere. I want to go over the notes again, and see if we can figure out what 'room' medic vaguely mentions in a couple of them."

Scout nodded slowly. "Sounds good." He got up, and suddenly fell back with a yelp of surprise. "My legs are all weird!"

"Stretch. Get the kinks out," I instructed. "Your legs will be tired, naturally."

Once scout could walk without falling over every two steps, we left and went to engineer's room. I knocked cautiously.

"Whozzat?" I muffled voice came from within.

"It…it is spy and scout," I said. "Can we come in?"

"Yeah."

I opened the door and we went in carefully. Engineer was examining a map that was pasted on the wall, studying it carefully. Without turning around, he said, "So you lived, boy?"

Scout glanced at me, and then back at engineer. "Yeah, thanks to your dispenser. That was quick thinking."

"Yeah? Well, when you were medic's friend, quick thinking saved you from having your stomach removed." Engineer sounded tired, really tired. He shifted where he stood, still looking at the wall map. "What do ya' need?"

"Er, can we," I hesitated. "Look at the journal notes?"

"Yeah, but all the other pages except the ones you read are worthless. Well…there is one. November 11th." Engineer turned around, and I saw his exhaustion in his expression. His face was drawn, his eyes hollow. He made his way to his desk and took out a folded sheet of paper. "Here."

I took the paper gingerly, since the edges were covered in blood stains.

Scout said nothing as I unfolded the note.

"'November 11th,'" I said slowly. Did I really want to read this? Too late now; my mouth was motoring on without me. "'I went to the room, probably for the last time. Last night, I noticed someone had went through my chocolate cupboard. Innocent, yes? However, I could have sworn the chocolate I ate tasted strange. I am of the belief that scout would not poison my chocolate. I wonder who went through the chocolates? After eating them, I was so sleepy. Even now I feel uncharacteristically tired, and my head hurts. It buzzes. I saw who went into the room last night from the terminal's control panel. It was a man in a grey suit. His hair was pale. I think he had some kind of device on his back, resembling a portable spine. (?) I saw him tamper with the chocolate. How stupid of me, to eat it without thinking. I did a chemical test, though. Not a major thing, some sleeping aids, and that's it. Did he want to knock me out for a few hours? Why? And how the bloody hell did he get in anyway?'"

I paused to take a breath. There was something odd here. What computer? What terminal? I looked back to the sheet and continued my articulation.

"'I doubt I will be returning to the room ever again. I've taken that path so many times in the farm base. Out, right, into engineer's room, into the trapdoor on his ceiling even _he_ doesn't know about. I also doubt engineer will ever know of the room, seeing as no man ever looks up. A strange thing, humans. We never, ever look up.'"

Scout was staring at the paper as though it was going to come alive and bite him.

"Well," I said. "Engineer?"

Engie was looking at me blankly. "There ain't no trapdoor in my room. It'd be visible, wouldn't it?"

I was having trouble believing it too. I looked up. Smooth ceiling. Maybe medic had already gone mad at that point and babbled about nothing? "It does look as though there is nothing on your ceiling."

Scout craned his neck upwards. "There's a spider sitting on its web in the corner."

"Big help, boy," engineer grumbled.

I continued to observe the area above me wordlessly. It seems impossible medic would have missed these pages. Were these left unmarked for a reason? Was there something on the other pages that bothered him?

Engineer had gone to rummage through one of his closets. "Ah-hah!"

I glanced over. "What is it?"

Engineer came out with a strange device. It looked faintly like a miniature vacuum cleaner. He ran it over the ceiling. At one point, near the corner, the device made a high-pitched whine. Engineer stopped there. He shoved a stool under the spot and stood on it to examine the wall.

"What was that thing?" I asked.

"Metal detector. These walls are all wood and plaster. The metal is in the combat regions." He ran his hands along the top of his room. "Well, I'll be. Doc was damn good at hiding this there thing."

I stared at the blue ceiling. "What is it? I see a blue surface."

Engineer grinned. Then, slowly, he began to peel away a section of the ceiling.

"Wait, what?" Scout said.

Engineer was holding a tin, blue sheet. It seemed to be made of aluminum, or foil. Underneath it was a large wooden trapdoor, also painted blue, though it stuck out.

Engineer locked a finger into a small groove on the trapdoor and yanked it down. Dust and spiders fell out of the gap, showering engineer in a powdery white material. Engineer brushed it aside and turned back to me. "Here ya go, boys. One secret trapdoor, comin' right up."

Scout almost knocked engineer off the stool as he rushed over. He jumped, and grabbed the rim. A moment later, he heaved himself up and was lost to the yawning black gap. I watched carefully. "Scout?"

Scout's voice came out of the gap, echoing faintly. "Hey, spy guy! C'mere! And engie, maybe!"

"Whaddya see, boy?" Engineer asked. "Tell me somethin'."

"Just come!"

"That boy," engineer said, exasperated. "Let's go along to make sure he doesn't kill himself."

Once we were in the duct, we saw marks on the metal where someone had crawled on many times. Scout was visible up ahead, or rather his head was.

"Yah! What the hell happened to ya' boy?" engineer was seeing the scout's head.

Scout laughed. "I had my head cut off by demo and stuck here."

As we neared, we saw that scout was standing with his head poking into the duct. Engineer pushed him roughly out of the way, and then hopped into the room. I followed suit.

"Hoooeee," engie whistled. "How the heck did this thing stay hidden?"

We were in a small control room. A massive computer with maybe fifteen screens stood against the wall, large and ominous. Ten of the screens showed various areas of the base. A small keyboard sat on the board.

Scout plopped down into the seat in front of the computer. "Cool! What the hell does it do, huh?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," I answered, staring at the monolithic device.

"Hey guys?" Engineer was staring at a door on the other side of the room. It was locked. Engineer rattled the handle. "Amazing computer thing a m'bobber can wait." He brought his right foot up and steadied himself up. "Let's see what is past this here door." He swung his foot and brought it crashing into the door, smashing it down.

"Woah."

We followed engineer out, leaving the flickering computer behind. In truth, I wanted to stay and examine the cameras, but now that was not an option. Engineer wanted to go, so we went.

Outside, the path went two ways. One way ended abruptly in a dead end, and the other end lead off into darkness. The ground was dirty and dusty. I did see a set of footprints, with dust just setting into it. Someone was here recently. Perhaps medic?

A rat scurried onto scout's foot and he let out a screech of surprise. He stomped on the offending creature, squishing it under foot. Black-red blood spurted out everywhere around his foot. "Ew! Gross! Rat blood!" he complained.

"Fine and dandy. Where does this go?" Engineer held up a lamp. Carefully, he made his way down the dark corridor, us two close behind.

Step after step, minute after minute in the suffocating dark. The air was thin and dry, and I felt like I was drowning. How did medic stand this? Wait a second! A thought occurred to me. Some of the notes were taken before the move to the farm area, yet it hints that he has been entering it often before we even moved!

I considered it. We were at the farm base. The normal base was thirty minutes by train ride off. It wasn't feasible. Sighing, I rubbed my eyes and looked on as engineer doggedly put on foot in front of the other, trudging on.

Scout, on my left, was still springing along like a rabbit. A bored expression sat on his face, and he tossed a baseball back and forth.

At last, the gloomy dark walk ended, in the strangest fashion. We stood just below another trapdoor. On either side were two doors, both locked. The trapdoor garnered more attention though, since it had Christmas lights strung on the edge. They were dead, though.

"Gimme a boost," scout said. Engineer and I held out our hands, ands he leapt onto them. We buckled under the sudden weight, but managed to stay upright.

"'urry up," I grumbled. "My 'and 'urts."

"Boohoo snake guy. Stay still."

Scout fiddled with the trap door latch until he managed to push it up. The door swung open, and we were standing in…the original building. To be precise, the kitchen.

"What the freaking hell?" Scout intoned. Perfect words.

Engineer examined the trapdoor. "Look," he said. "One side is patterned with the kitchen floor tiles. Looks smooth when you shut it."

Scout opened the fridge. "Aw, it's empty."

"Yes, you imbecile!" I hissed. "We 'ave not been 'ere for weeks!" I looked around warily. This was strange.

"Engineer? Any ideas?" I asked.

Engie sat down with his legs hanging down into the trapdoor. He took off his helmet and ran a hand through his graying hair. "What the hell medic knew, we probably will never know. But this…passages…secret rooms. Wish ah could tell you ah knew, but ah don't."

Scout was now creeping out to explore.

"It's not your first time 'ere," I grumbled brusquely. "Stay 'ere."

Engineer stood. "Actually, let's have a look-see and make sure this really is our base, yeah?"

We explored for a while. When we made it to the med bay, scout stopped dead. "I don't wanna go in." He paused. "It reminds me of doc."

"Don't be so childish," I said. "It's not like medic will burst in as a ghost and devour your soul, mon ami."

Engineer and I dragged scout in. Inside, everything had a fine layer of dust.

"Well," engineer stated. "The real way to check is…?"

Scout grinned, in spite of himself. "Chocolate."

"Yep."

I threw open a cabinet door. Inside, rows and rows of chocolate jars sat, preserved despite the time sitting in there. The relatively cool temperature and sugar helped significantly. I remembered just in time to shut the door, as scout looked ready to throw himself at them and eat them all. If we ever saw medic again, in this life or the next, I'd have a word with him on what the blazes he put in his chocolate.

Engineer went over to medic's desk. It was messy, as medic generally was. When I looked over, my breath caught. A fresh, bloody handprint was on the table. Engineer touched it with his index finger. "Fresh. Still liquid."

"Someone's freaking in here?!" Scout's eyes were wide. "L-Let's get outta here!"

"Calm down, boy. There must be an explanation," I said.

"Explanation whatever! Let's get out! It's medic back from the freaking dead!"

"Sure, scout. And America is still a British colony."

The sarcasm was lost on scout, who never studied history. "Snake man, engie, let's scram! A bloody hand print is way too creepy!"

Engineer ignored him. "Considering this here room temperature, I'd say this print's been here fifteen t' thirty minutes."

"You should be medic," scout said, whistling.

"Ah'm not, so shut up and listen. Let's go check out your room, spah. Ah've got a feeling something will be there."

I wasn't ready to go based on a 'feeling'. The handprint spooked me plenty, and I had the feeling engineer was hurrying us along for something. Skipping the computer…ignoring the handprint. Another thought burst into my head. A half-hour train ride…and a maybe ten minute walk? What?

Engineer seemed to read my mind. "Ah bet you the train went in a loop."

Silence reigned as we all stood there. Scout, of course, being impatient and always hopped up on god-knows-what, was the first to speak.

"LET'S GO."

Unconsciously obeying, we went to my room. When I unlocked the door and stepped in, I had not quite noticed the red smear on the handle. Engineer did.

"Spah...you just grabbed a bloody handle."

Scout squinted at the door. "That blood is real dark."

"Yep," engineer said. "Probably sat in the person's palm for a while."

I entered, trying to not think about why there was a bloody handprint on the wall. Who could it belong to? Take a wild guess…you probably guessed right.

"HOLY SHIT!" scout virtually screamed.

Medic sat against the wall, head lolling on his chest. His arms were covered in blood, and there were several bullet holes in his stomach region. A massive gash spread along his right thigh, and there were gauge marks on his forehead.

"What the—" engineer began.

At that moment, medic gave a violent, shuddering cough, expelling dark red globules of blood. I bent down by him.

"Medic!" I shook him. "Medic!"

Now any idiot knows that shaking a horribly bleeding man covered in injuries is no good. However, when something like this actually happens, most people (sadly, I am 'most people') do not think clearly. Hence, I was rattling out whatever blood medic had left by shaking his still form.

Engineer pried me away, and muttered, "I don't have any metal for a dispenser. Stay here…I'll find the resupply closet."

Engineer took off, and scout sat down cross-legged by medic. Why was medic here? What was with the computer and secret room? Too many questions, and absolutely no answers. When medic woke up (if he did) I would interrogate him until I had every single answer. Us French are not always so persistent. I seceded. So sue me.

By the time engineer was back, I was sick with worry. Medic was pale (no difference there. I swear he is part-vampire.) and shivering. Despite still being unconscious, he was muttering German words under his breath, twitching and vibrating. The fact he wasn't dead was testament to the fact that medic was used to surviving severe situations, lack of sleep, injuries, and whatever else. Most men would be dead by now.

Engineer was back with a large toolbox. He threw it down and began giving choice whacks to it with his wrench. The device was setting itself up. I saw it was already pre-constructed, which explained why he took so long.

It was a level two dispenser, and right away it gave a cough and started healing medic. I heard soldier say once that when medic needed a medic, we were all doomed and well on our way to hell. Why am I thinking about soldier's insane quotes at a time like this?

"Think he'll live? The regenerator doesn't give blood, hardhat. You said so yourself," scout said. "And seeing as doc has an ocean of red stuff around him, I'd say he lost a _lot_ of blood."

"Optimistic little jackrabbit ain't ya?" engineer grumbled. He started giving the regenerator more whacks to set metal in place. A minute later, the device gave a steamy hiss and upgraded to level three. The healing rays grew stronger and brighter.

I bent down and watched as the rays pushed metal bullets out of medic's body. By all rights he should be a corpse. The more I watched, the more horrifyingly fascinated I grew. There were nearly a hundred bullets in medic. Pieces of metal were lodged in the slash marks, and these were forced our by the regenerator rays too.

Scout seemed intensely eager to see bloody blobs float in the healing rays. Engineer busied himself examining medic's wounds. He swore a few times when he came across particularly viscous things. Suddenly, he noticed a lot of the rays were trying to dart to medic's back, and he raised an eyebrow. He shoved medic around and let out a yell of alarm.

"Good damn God!"

Medic's back was scorched to a blackened, withered mass. The lab coat was completely gone there, the edges of the missing section frayed. Blackened skin was there, leaking tiny rivulets of pale red blood. Dried, somewhat orange flesh rested in patches all over the burn sections. There was virtually nothing left on medic's back. I could see burned muscles and a swear I spotted pearly white vertebrae.

"Holy. Shit." Scout leaned against the dispenser. "Did some kind of pyro come after doc?" His voice quivered almost imperceptibly. "That is a fucking nasty piece of crap."

"His skin is not a piece of crap," I muttered. I could barely form words. Medic may as well have gone through a pit full of every class on our team. All angry at him. I don't know how he anyone can be angry at medic though. Imagine a young, nice, sleep, and not-bad-looking teacher coming to a high school. Nobody will get mad at him. That's what medic is like. You can't be angry at him.

If he wakes up, I am going to be so mad at him.

…

Unless he kills me first.

…

…

-Four Hours Later-

Back at our base, (it was ridiculously hard to lug medic back. He's light, but imagine carrying a near-corpse slung over your shoulder for ten minutes. Then heave him up a trapdoor.) we left medic in his own med bay.

Three days passed. Pyro and heavy came in to visit the unconscious man.

The end of the third day was the day. THE day. The day our medic woke up.

Pyro burst into my room, panting and his voice sounding harsh through the mask. "Mmmph! UUUmppph! Hmmph!"

I did not understand his words, but his gesturing to the med bay could only mean one thing. Medic was coming around.

When I got there, sweating and worried, medic's eyes were fluttering. He was weakly trying to sit up, wincing and falling back every time he did.

"Docteur! Stay there! You can't move yet!" My voice was tinged with panic. How do you deal with a man who had the living daylights beat out of him. Scout is special. He can survive off sugar so he's fine. But medic? What do I do?!

Medic managed to sit up and look at me. His eyes were wide, blank…and, well, just plain empty. "Hello," he said pleasantly, as though he were discussing weather. "Who are you?"

His German accent was there, but just barely. Why did he sound so clueless as well?

"M-Medic?"

"Who is this medic you speak of?" he asked mildly. No! Bad! Medic doesn't say "this". He says "zis"! Zis! ZIS!

"Uh…are you alright?" Dumb question, really.

"Yes, I am," he said cheerfully. "I do feel a little painful, but I'm sure that's nothing. Who are you? I am…." He trailed off, and then his brow furrowed. "I'm…."

Amnesia. No way. Not on your French cheese's life.

"Docteur, if you are pretending, stop now, or I swear on my life I will remove all your organs with my knife."

Medic blinked owlishly at me. "What?"

Pyro was watching like an interested bystander. Now, he went over to medic and examined his head. "Mmph…hmph?"

Pyro pointed to something on medic's forehead. I leaned in closer. It was a large bruise, stretching across the left half of his forehead. It was already fading. Well, we had medical reason. Blunt force trauma. I heard you can sometimes restore memory with a swift whack to the head.

…

Worth a shot, especially since he has been an ass for quite a while.

…

Isn't medic quite strong despite his appearance? And honestly, spies aren't usually that strong themselves, since all we need to know how to do is pull a trigger, press a button, and stab someone in the back.

…

Medic is a vampire.

Medic continued to stare at me like a four year old. An overgrown four year old wearing a torn, bloody lab coat. "Again, who are you?"

"I-I am spy. You know me. You are on BLU team." I tried to speak slowly and keep my voice from shaking. "You are medic. Your actual name…er, well I don't know."

Medic's eyes narrowed. His cold blue eyes lost their liquid warm look. They obtained the usual icy cold of medic's eyes. "I am…what?"

"Medic," I enunciated. "M-E-D-I-C."

"I am not a kindergartener!" he snapped. "You are spy, you say, what an odd name. You called me medic, which is also an odd name. Both are nouns. A medic..." Medic stopped and thought. "…is a person who acts as medical officer on combat fields and war fronts."

So medic hadn't lost his intelligence. Just his person-face memory. And his sense of self. Was that bad? Probably.

"So," docteur said. "I cannot remember my name. How odd." He stood, and then toppled over to fall onto the ground. He was still very badly injured.

I swear I am going to either cry, scream, or throw a fit.

Medic stood, and then went over to the cabinet and threw it open. His face twisted in disgust. "What is this? All this disgusting chocolate." He slammed the cabinet shut and stared down at his lab coat. "Why am I wearing this stupid thing?" He tore it off. He had no shirt on now, seeing as it had been incinerated by something. He turned to me. "Explain what the hell is going on, and why I am in a hospital."

Not a hospital, really, but ah well. "Medic," I mumbled. "You, um, hit your head pretty bad there." I proceeded with a somewhat long-winded, rambling lecture about how he was a medic and how he'd been found injured. I left out the part about him going insane and shooting scout.

Medic looked at me, and a small smile spread across his features. Did he believe me? Did he remember?

"Nice story. When did you make it up?"

So, no then.

I heaved an angry spy.

Now medic was playing with a bone saw. "Sharp. Interesting. I always wanted to be a surgeon." He looked like he was about to chop off his fingers.

"Medic, put on a shirt and sit down. I will get engineer to take a look at you."

Pyro had remained silent the whole time. To his credit, he is a quiet man(thing?) and intelligent. Now, he gave a little bow (what the heck?) and left the med bay, humming softly.

Pyro is nearly as scary as medic. Nearly.

Now, medic, ignoring my advice to find a shirt (His back healed, mostly. Engineer's been improving his dispenser, I see.) was now aiming a syringe gun at a small bottle. The real medic would have known what was in the bottle. As it was, the not-so-real medic fired, shattered the bottle, and released a storm of green pills.

Medic picked one up. "What's this?"

"Don't eat it!" I yelped, snatching it from him. He turned to say something to me but I had enough. I gave him a solid punch, throwing him into the air and causing him to land on the ground, eyes shut. "That was a very, very bad idea," I said aloud. He's practically dead, and I just socked him.

"That was a bad move, spah."

I spun. Oh of _course_ engie would be there to see me punch docteur.

"Ah, he was…annoying."

"Amnesia patients generally are," engineer said, and both eyebrows rose. "However, punching him may have knocked out all his cognitive functions and killed him."

"You should be a medic," I hissed.

"I read one of doc's medical books. Was boring. Yet informative. Want to know how to surgically remove a—"

"No."

"Okay," engineer mused. "Let's see if you killed doc. If he wasn't dead before he sure as hell is now."

Medic, fortunately, was alive. He sat up when engineer poked his neck, and swore violently in German. Was his memory back?

"Hey, it's the idiot who punched me!"

So it's not back. One can wish.

"Doc, lie down," engineer ordered.

Medic ignored him and stood, coming over to me. He raised his hand to punch me and I prepared to block when suddenly his eyes rolled up and he collapsed. What was that?

Pyro stood behind where medic had stood a moment ago, holding out the blunt handle of his axe. I see. A good whack on the poor docteur's head.

"All that head trauma cannot be good for medic," I said. "For that matter, I _did _give him a solid hit…but…."

Engineer heaved medic onto a hospital bed. "You boys git yourselves some rest. Let's all leave doc here alone for a while."

We all tromped out, leaving medic lying there with a blanket draped over him. We had our medic back, but just his body, not his mind.

Medic: (noun): A worrisome, tired man whose job is to shoot us with healing rays. Always tired. May be insane. ALSO SEE: Insane Asylum Inmate

AN: Can you picture scout as a dog? Or puppy? I can. As a corgi or something.


	7. Chapter 7: Come Back, German!

I liked doves. Liked, past tense. They were nice, white pure pigeons. Technically, not pigeons, but close enough. You have no idea how much I suddenly hated pigeons with every fiber (cell?) of my being.

Ever since medic woke up half-dead as an amnesiac, he'd been wandering the base in one of scout's T-Shirts and jeans. He wasn't a large man, and he was relatively young. He looked just like a college student. That, though, was a problem.

We tried to keep medic from wandering out. He kept wanting to go to the flock of doves outside. What doves? Outside the farm, an entire squadron of white pigeons sat, cooing and pecking on the window in the med bay. The fact he wanted to go to them suggested he had some faint, phantom memories left. I had hoped that the fact pyro and  
I had given violent blows to his head would have restored memory. If anything, he became listless and tired, wandering all over and humming softly. The brilliant, somewhat mad, and always tired doctor had been reduced to as babbling idiot. Joy.

Engineer spent about twenty minutes each day, talking to medic and trying to get him to remember. Originally, he showed medic his tools. That backfired when medic tried to take off engineer's head with a bone saw. Now it was just chatter.

So far, the new medic's personality delighted scout, since the memory-loss medic forgot he liked chocolate and gave the whole lot to scout. Scout lugged the jars to his room and has yet to come out.

Medic was tired, because memory there or not, biologically he was tired, and without chocolate/coffee, he was falling asleep in corridors. We needed our medic back, to find out what was going on.

Engineer had not allowed us to that computer room since we brought medic back. He wanted to get medic back as medic before we went. I told him we might be waiting a while. He said he'd wait as long as it took.

Today, on the fifth day of amnesia medic's presence, I was lying on my bed, staring at a fly creep up the wall. There was suddenly knocking at the door.

"Whose that?" I mumbled. Yawning, I turned my head to face the door.

"It is me!" That empty, dumb voice. Amnesia-Medic.

"Uh, come in, I guess," I answered.

Medic came in with that strange black skull shirt and jeans. However, today he was holding his bone saw. I instinctively grabbed my revolver.

Amnesia medic saw the action. "Ah, you can be calm now. I am not here to bozher you, mein freund."

German words and accent. His memory?

"Medic…?"

"I have a question about this medic character."

Damn.

"Yes," I said tiredly. "What is it?" I leaned against the wall.

"You shouldn't lean against zat drying paint. It's mildly toxic," he advised. He froze, and one eye twitched. "Now vhere did I learn zat?"

"Just get on with the question." Medic had been getting random chunks of his memory floating back to his skull. I'd heard a jolt, physical or implied, can bring back memories. What if I showed him the Crusader's Crossbow? Engineer had yet to try that.

"Zis medic person…assuming I do have amnesia…vas he, ah, a chocolate person?" he asked. It was unbelievably weird to hear medic asking about his own character.

I hesitated. "'e…was. Why?"

"Because, I found his desk to be full of ze chocolate." A look of distaste filled his face. "Perhaps it is amnesia, but I vill not be such a person again. I vill try to be zis medic person you speak of, at least." He turned and left, leaving me staring at the spot he was a moment ago.

It was bad, I knew. His new "being" or personality would become permanent if the old memories didn't reassert themselves. Medic that doesn't like chocolate? Gods, that is just wrong. Like, humans having one eye. Oh wait, Demo may not appreciate that thought. Hmm.

Scout came in, his head over his shoulder to watch medic leave. He turned back to me. "Any change w-with doc?"

"No…he's still strange. His accent is back, thought. Not sure what that means."

Scout grinned slightly. I saw he was vibrating. Vibrating? "Y-Yeah. B-B-But it's kinda c-c-c-cool. H-He gave me all his chocolate. A-And he looks weird in my spare c-clothes."

"Scout," I said conversationally. "You're vibrating. Did you eat all the chocolate?" I reached for my knife. I may need to defend myself from him any second.

"W-What? V-V-Vibrating? You are so-o-o-o w-weird," scout babbled. His hands were twitching. I bet he _did_ finish all the chocolate. Actually, probably not. It would be more visible. Several jars of chocolate takes up a lot of space in the stomach. It would be visible, yes?

"Scout," I said. "You really shouldn't eat all of medic's chocolate. It no doubt has stuff added to keep 'im awake, yes?"

"H-H-He's not here a-anymore, s-s-s-s-s-s-s-"

I pushed scout onto the bed and managed to tie him up with a chord. What was the chord for? I do not know. Engineer left it in my room. Turned out to be handy.

Scout lay quite still there, and I realized he was asleep. I rolled my eyes. Now he was going to annex my room.

Leaving him there, snoring softly, I made my way to the kitchen. Medic (Or amnesia-medic, I thought of his secondary personality.) was baking something. Curious, I wandered over casually and looked over his shoulder as he reached into an oven. It was a cake. What the blazes is he doing?

Medic glanced up and saw me. "Oh, hello."

"W-What are you doing?!" I almost screeched. Amnesiacs are infuriating!

Medic stared at me like I'd grown another head. "I am baking…of course."

"Yes, I see that! But why?!"

Medic set the cake down on the table and took frosting out from the fridge. "I am…bored."

"You're a medic! Act like one!" Then I slapped my own face. "Oh of course. You don't remember how to."

Medic turned back to his cake and began to spread the frosting all over. At one point, he took out strawberries and placed them in a neat circle.

I wanted to strangle him.

Medics DO NOT…

Smile.

Bake.

Act like anything pleasant.

Even though our medic had been nicer than most, he wasn't stupid.

I left him backing (I saw him put a tray of cookies in the oven) and wandered outside. I got a notice, as did the rest of the team, that we were idle too long. There had been no combat for weeks, and we had to resume combat today.

When battle started, medic was there, surprisingly enough. I had expected that the team would keep him inside. Everyone knew about his memory loss, but we hadn't said a thing about the original events. Engineer was instructing Amnesia-Medic on how to use the devices. Syringe gun, medi-gun, ubersaw. He nodded along with everything, but I wasn't sure he'd be okay on the field. If he died without regaining his memory, well, that would just be pathetically sad.

The combat alarm blared. King of the Hill. It was icy cold, and it was December 2nd. Ice crunched underneath our feet as we charged out towards the point. Tiny snow particles drifted all over. Most of the animals had gone off somewhere, save for a few particularly stupid pigs that hung around and were in frozen solid mud.

The cold chill spread to all of us, making our guttural war cries sound muted against the still air. Icy north winds circled around us likes wolves, tearing at our clothes and skin.

I looked over at medic. He'd been told to keep the medi-gun trained on heavy unless someone else shouted out. Engie had also explained uber-charge, although I think he had no idea what that was. I hoped heavy wasn't ex[ecting an insane burst of godly invincibility any time soon, eh?

As all of us streamed out the doors and charged, I saw the movements mirrored by the red team. Unfortunately, they had a whole team (I wasn't counting medic. His head was wiped cleaner than the moon.) and we did not. They, unlike us, seemed ready and eager for battle. Today, in this gloomy air, even soldier seemed subdued, his voice quiet in the dead air.

The cold environment was wreaking havoc in medic's head. They say that memories are chemical portions of your brain. A strong stimulus might help bring it back. Seeing as medic was in his favorite weather, would it…?

No, apparently. Instead, medic just let out a quiet yelp and covered his head. "My…My head is going to explode…." He crouched and let out a low-pitched whimper, followed by a quite keening noise. A vein pulsed in his neck. He really did not look fine.

"Medic?" Engineer's voice cut through the cold air. While the others rushed off, engineer and I made our way to medic, who was cowering behind heavy. Heavy raised an eyebrow and said, "Take care of doctor." He trudged away, lowering his mini-gun as he did. What did he know?

Bending down, engineer helped medic to his feet. The doctor was still. Engineer felt for a pulse and nodded. "He's alive, but what the hell was that?"

I thought about it briefly. "Doesn't he get energized by cold?"

"He's not a robot, spah, cold just helps him focus, since it's, well, cold." Engineer pushed medic into sitting position against the wall. "Ah don't have time to deal with this now. If we don't wanna get hell from Blue Mann, we better get ourselves onto the field. Leave doc here, he oughta be safe."

I reluctantly agreed, and left with him to head out. On the field, chaos reigned. Nobody on my team was calling for medic, and I saw the red sniper searching frantically for our medic. He was, after all, a key part, healer and all. Most ignored his role and belittled his work, but medic really was a critical job. Now though, the reds sensed something was up. Our injured comrades said nothing, not calling for medic. At one point, I saw the red soldier and blue soldier dueling with spades.

"What's the matter, blue hippy? Where's your doc, huh?" red soldier yelled.

Blue soldier threw him a bloodshot glare and dodged a shovel blow. He struck out and caught the soldier on the shoulder. "That's none of your business, commie!"

Red soldier drew his shotgun and pumped a round into soldier's arm. "Go ahead, call for your medic! Then let me blow his insides to his outsides!" He fired another round, spraying more bullets into the air. I inched closer, wondering if I could get a backstab in.

Our soldier clutched at his arm and cursed. His eyes flickered back to the building where medic lay unconscious. He turned back to the red soldier and took his rocket launcher up. "Shut up." He fired at point blank range, throwing himself back several feet in the process. On the whole, he fared better, since the other soldier was in a bunch of tiny, fleshy, scorched chunks. I shuddered. Soldier was overreacting towards the comment about medic's presence.

The whole team had became rather attached to our medic, which explained their touchiness. The red demo was goading the blue demo about his eight-member team. "Whassa matter, yer medic been drinkin'?! HAHAR!"

Blue demo, strangely, was quiet. He took out his grenade launcher and fired, hurling a grenade at his opponent's feet. The red demo soared through the air. Lucky for him, he landed by a dispenser, and demo dared not go closer.

Blue scout and red scout were fighting half-heartedly. Red scout seemed worried about medic, and his counterpart was apparently curious about what happened, shooting glances towards the door way where medic was just visible.

I scanned the field, and then my heart leapt into my throat. Red medic was backing away, towards one of demo's sticky bombs. Demo was watching, eyes narrowed. This cold, silent team was disturbing. I threw a panicked look at demo and the sticky bomb. When he caught me watching, I shook my head furiously, gesturing towards the sticky bomb. Demo looked surprised, but did not detonate when medic backed over the bomb. He threw me a look that clearly said, _You better explain this later._

When red medic realized he'd walked over a sticky unharmed, he twisted his head around, searching. When he laid eyes on demo, demo jerked his chin towards me and turned away. Red medic locked eyes with me and then ran, fleeing towards the main building. I watched him until he was gone from view.

Violent shaking and cursing jolted me back into reality. Sniper had fallen in front of me after being launched into the air by a red grenade cylinder. His jacket was smoking and his arms singed. He was pretty beat up.

I hauled him towards engineer, who pointed towards his level two dispenser. I sat sniper by it, and turned back to the field.

Red heavy seemed mildly surprised that his medic was not there, but said nothing. Eventually, he stopped looking surprised, and began screaming and shooting. Red spy materialized behind our soldier.

"Fils de Pute!" I yelled, and drew my revolver. Soldier heard my swearing and jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding a backstab. The red spy turned to see me aiming an ambassador at him (odd if you've never heard of the gun. It would otherwise sound as though I am aiming a diplomat at someone.) and he ducked. My bullet shot over his head.

"Un Serpent," I grumbled. I fired more bullets, but red spy had already cloaked and fled. Our soldier saluted and ran across towards the point. The reds had seized it because their scout had broken away from our and stayed their long enough. Our soldier launched missiles, causing the scout to soar away, and land with a sickening crunch. Soldier marched around on the point, and was soon joined by pyro, wielding a flare gun. A moment later the announcer spoke. "We have captured the control point."

Amazingly, we held the point throughout the battle. It was excruciatingly painful to wait, not because of battle injuries, but the intense clothes. Most of us were in our standard clothes. Pyro, though, had built himself a merry, giant bonfire on the point. He'd dried wood with compression blasts, poured in a little oil, and voila! Campfire! Soldier nodded appreciatively and sat down, but when anyone else came near he snapped at them to keep the reds away. Selfish bugger.

When I jogged back to the base to check on medic, I stopped dead. He was gone!

"DAMMIT!" I screamed. That was way too American sounding. I must spend less time around scout. He is getting to be a linguistically bad influence.

I spent the next ten minutes (We won all three rounds in that time since when we killed reds, they stayed dead. I heard rumors about a machine that respawned people on death. A shame it's not here now.) searching the base. The others had not seen him. I scoured every inch of the base. I should have tied him down.

At last, I gave up. The rest of the team was worried, but engineer convinced them to stop and take a break. I finally decided that amnesia-medic would show up sooner or later. At the same time, scout came with a paper in his hands. He called us all to the kitchen. When we got there, he was waving a moving form.

"Guess what? Coldfront is UP!" Scout chirped.

"No, bloody way. They want to send us to _that_ place? It snows even when it's not bloody winter! And it's winter _now!_" Sniper hissed.

"Medic would've loved it," engineer said mildly. He took a sip from his cup of coffee. "Where has he gone?"

Soldier examined the sheet of paper. "Coldfront. That place is frozen hell, ladies. So get yourselves geared up." Soldier scratched his head/helmet. "God I hate Coldfront."

"You 'ave been there?" I asked, surprised.

"Well yeah, crouton. We've been here a while, some of us. Although, they only sent us there twice in the last three years. The battlefield is sometimes random, sometimes based on who wins or loses." Soldier sounded subdued, and he wasn't yelling. Only now did I realize how popular medic had been with the team.

"Snow country," engineer said. A strange tone filled his voice. "We have got to get medic back before we go."

The meeting was adjourned, and we all left to rest. Nobody ate dinner. There were supplies in the fridge, but when pyro (who usually cooks) looked at the food he just hung his head and walked away. It was so depressing I swear you could _see_ the gloominess. I'd say it was dark purple and black-rimmed. Great, now I'm hallucinating.

As I took off my suit and tie, I reflected on how strange everything had become. Medic going insane, me founding out pyro is human (maybe) and that…well, I'm not sure. It was all colliding in my head, bursting in firework thoughts. I heaved a heavy sigh and lay down, staring up at the ceiling. The base was quiet, and dark. The lights were all off. Everyone was in their rooms, thinking their own quiet thoughts. Almost everyone.

Scout came in.

"Scout," I snarled. "Get out, please."

Scout looked disgruntled, but left wordlessly. Perhaps I should not have snapped at him, but I really wasn't in the right mood. Something went off in my chest. "Hey, scout?" I asked slowly. Silence, and then scout peeked in.

"Yeah?"

"Uh, sorry about that. Did you want to ask something?"

Scout shut the door and plopped down cross legged on the floor. "Sorry. I-I…didn't know I was bothering you." He smiled weakly. What disturbed me is that his eyes were watery. I sat up from my bed to examine him.

"What's wrong, mon ami?"

Scout stood and sat down next to me. He leaned against me, and then jerked away suddenly, red-faced. "Uh…."

"Scout, just get to the point."

Scout shook slightly and then asked, "Where's medic?"

Scout was being a little melodramatic. Emotional. Hmm.

"Scout," I murmured, tousling his hair (That felt weird.) "Medic will be fine."

Scout smirked. "Everyone says that."

"He will be. Do you know how I know?"

Scout stared at me blankly.

I patted his shoulder. "Think how long medic was here. He hasn't lost to anything yet, so why would amnesia beat him?" I knew these words were ridiculous, but something in them seemed to make sense.

Scout sniffed. (He was emotional.)

This was rather awkward. I'm trained in how to slip knives into vital organs, not comfort people. In particular a crying scout that reminded me of a puppy.

I just sat there, awkwardly patting his shoulder. He wasn't crying, just sort of tearing up. (Nicer way of saying lightly crying.) Why was he so upset about medic? I wasn't going to ask. I guess he just liked medic, even if he annoyed him 24/7.

Scout sat there for what must have been an hour. It would have looked rather strange to anyone who came in, scout sitting there. At one point, scout gave me a brief hug. (awkward) A minute later I realized he'd fallen asleep. Should I move? Eventually, I lay him on my bed and draped a blanket on him. I made my way to a cot in my closet and decided to sleep in that. As my eyes closed, my thoughts drifted to medic. Nobody had quite forgotten him, even if he had amnesia and left.

That night the strangest dream went through my skull. There were large, rolling green hills. They looked comical. Large candy canes stood everywhere. Pyro stood next to me. He turned to me. "Mmph uumph!"

"What?" I asked, glancing around. I started. Medic was on my left. "M-Medic?"

Medic winked at me. "Hello, Herr Spy. Time to wake up." He drew back his fist and swung it up.

"Wait!" I said. "Medic!"

He punched me. Everything went black.

I awoke with a shiver; it was rather cold. Scout was gone, and when I went to the kitchen, he wouldn't look at me. Finally, when I was about ready to stab myself just so it wouldn't be silent, scout opened his mouth.

"Spy…?"

"Y-Yeah?" I sound American again. Hmph.

"You know that weird computer thingy? Do you think we should check it out?" he asked, his voice barely audible. "I mean, it might have some stuff in it that could be useful."

I thought about it. Scout certainly had a point. It would be likely that the computer had some video feeds on it, seeing as it was evidently connected to a bunch of cameras.

I nodded. "Let's go find engineer."

Engineer, it turned out, was not in a helpful mood. When the man in a hardhat showed up at his door, he turned us away. "Sorry, spah, scout. Ah can't have you crawling around today." Aside from that he gave no explanation.

Not comforted by his cryptic words, we left his room. Eventually, we went outside into the cool air. I had better get used to cold; I'd be experiencing plenty of it at coldfront. Coldfront. Front what I knew of the place, it was going to be beyond freezing in winter. I'd been to a chilly battleground since I joined this team, but people described coldfront as frozen hell in winter.

It was likely I wouldn't like the place. I frowned as a thought occurred to me. Medic would have absolutely loved the place. Then again, he was crazy.

Scout was quiet as we sat in the morning air. I adjusted my mask uncomfortably and shifted my body. Winter air floated around, swirling around my head. I saw dead leaves rolling along the floor, some taking off to spiral in mid-air. There were no insects, and I watched as the farmyard (AN: It's not the map 'Harvest') sat in fall's grip. The trees were colored, and everything gleamed dully.

Scout was not quite appreciating what I was. His eyes were somewhat glassy, and he stared ahead at nothing. The usually energetic boy was sitting idle. Alright, something was wrong.

I went inside, and scout continued to sit there. I found a can of BONK! In the fridge and grabbed it. I made my way out again, and handed it to scout. He nodded and popped the tab. He pounded it down in three gulps, and then started choking.

"What the hell were you trying to do?" I grumbled, pounding on his back. He choked violently, and then spat out a bit of soda.

I watched as he crumpled up the can and tossed it aside. Sighing, a picked it up and disposed of it in a trash can (Aren't I a model citizen?) and sat down by scout again. Scout inhaled the cold air. "What should we do before battle starts?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe join 'eavy in a wrestling match."

Scout glanced at me. "You're kidding."

"Yes," I muttered. "Yes I am."

Wrestle heavy? It would take three seconds to turn you into a human pancake. Ugh, what a cliché. It's true though, you would be flatter than the proverbial sheet of paper.

We ended up sitting there in a blank daze until the combat alarm blared. Yelling war cries, my team streamed out. Today, they were dead set and pushing as many reds they could into hell. I could see the violent determination in their eyes. Well, I couldn't see soldier's eyes and demo only had…ah never mind.

Sniper crouched by the doorway. Once again, everyone was painfully aware that we lacked a medic. Scout perked up. That boy cannot stay depressed for more than an hour at a time. I think it's biologically impossible. He probably has an extra organ that generates sugar and extra adrenaline.

Mind blank, I wandered into the field. I remembered just in time to cloak. Eventually, I stumbled over to the red side. The red sniper stood beside me, unaware that I stood there, holding a deadly butterfly knife. Not that it mattered. I was pretty, ah, the Americans say, burned out. I noticed that the sniper did not have his annoying giant amazon shield. Instead, today he had a large green oval strapped to his back. It was sturdy, but left the region just below his neck open, unlike the razorback. Hello, stupid sniper.

Stepping forward, I flicked open my butterfly knife. Sadly for me, I was a bit too tired to remember that decloaking made noise. The _psssshhh_ sound instantly alerted the sniper. He whirled around, holding a large "knife". No, not a knife. Giant sword thingy. I heard him call it kukri.

"Bloody spook!" He slashed downwards, and I just managed to catch his blade with my knife. Drawing it against him, I slashed sideways, causing his kukri to spin away from his hands. He did not look worried. I wonder why?

I found out.

Today, he was not holding a sniper rifle. He had a large bow, with the word _Hunstman _printed on its length. He wielded it like a baton, and whacked the side of my head. Then, he grabbed an arrow and a moment later had it knocked in the bowstring. At this range, the arrow would go straight through my skull and into the wall!

"Behind you!" I screamed. I didn't expect it to work. It did.

Red sniper whirled, and lowered his bow. I stabbed at his neck, aiming just below it to sever the brain stem. I made it. With a loud, drawn out scream (How melodramatic) he collapsed, slumping over on the ground. I shoved his corpse to the side. I was just beginning to feel good when thin, strong arms wrapped around my neck.

"Mmph!" My eyes widened. Struggling, I managed to elbow my attacker. I spun, with my knife out. It was the red spy.

"'ello!" he said cheerfully. Why had he not just stabbed me? "I 'ave lost my knife, or you would be dead!" Oh. Then, a dangerous glint flashed across his eyes. "But I can still kill you with my arms and a well-aimed shot."

I wasn't going to let him put a bullet in my brain. "All that training," I called to him as I backed away. "Useless if you cannot hit your target, non?" I fired a few shots that caught him in various limbs.

The red spy spat out a series of words in French I would do well not to translate, for the sake of better company, oui?

"Chienne! Cretin! Crotte! Batard! Diable!"

"What a foul mouth you have," I said. Then, deciding that in case he suddenly became a good shooter, I had better leave.

Eventually, the battle ended. Nobody died, red or blue. I couldn't tell you the details of the battle even if I wanted to because at one point I took a drink from something without paying attention to what it was. Demo's scrumpy. I woke up at the end of battle with a nasty headache and sore in fifty places.

Back in base, soldier stopped me. I rolled my eyes. I did not have time for his ranting. Instead, though, he asked me where I thought medic was. I couldn't very well tell him that I had suspicions about the computer room. Nobody was to know that.

I shook my head, and soldier walked away silently. That was a first.

Scout was in my room again. (Why is he always there? That is disturbing.) He waved a little hello as I came in.

"Scout," I said conversationally. "Did you know my room in MINE, not yours?"

He grinned. "It's my room now."

"Shut up."

Scout yawned, and then pointed at the door. "Wanna check on the computer room now?"

I wasn't sure. My head felt like exploding. "I 'ave an 'orrible 'eadache…maybe tomorrow night?"

Scout smirked. "You drank that shit in demo's bottle. It oughta wear off in a few days."

I twitched. "WHAT?"

Scout pulled his knees up and hugged them to his chest. "You can still go to the room. Let's go tonight!"

"Fine. Let's go now, before I change my mind."

Engineer wasn't in his room. The door was unlocked, and the trapdoor opened. "Did hardhat go?" scout wondered aloud.

I began heaving myself up. Once we were in the ducts, we crawled over to the room and dropped in. "Nobody here," I murmured.

I sat myself in the chair and began reviewing the footage. I managed to make the computer show today's footage of inside this very room. Scout and I watched, wide-eyed as medic climbed down and looked around. Then he went to the corner and simply vanished! Vanished!

Staring, scout and eye glanced at each other, and then back to the screen. I opened my mouth to speak, but was stopped by the press of cold metal against the back of my head.

"Vell! You just could not stay avay!"

AN: Sorry about the slowing down in updating. I wonder how I'm going to proceed with this? I'd welcome suggestions. Any ideas on what should happen next chapter? Anything goes. SpyxScout? (Actually, no thanks.) Medic turns into a zombie? (eh….) Throw me a line here.


	8. Chapter 8: I'm Not Crazy

AN: Thanks for the suggestions. I am unsure if any will be implemented, but they are all interesting elements for the story. By the way, the yaoi thing was a joke. I've seen so much of that I'm going to throw up if I write one myself. No offense to anyone who wrote it; I am not prejudiced against any form of writing, and it's not like I've never read one of those. I just wouldn't write one myself. Danke, mein freunde.

The German voice spoke again. "Stand up."

I obeyed silently. How do you argue with a gun? It might not have been a gun, but it was metal, it was cold, and I felt circular on my mask. I glanced to my right. A pistol was held to the back of scout's head. It was in a gloved, blue hand. A chill ran down my spine when I saw the gloves. Had medic gone insane?

"Don't turn around. Move slowly. Backwards."

We walked backwards very carefully. Scout's hand kept twitching towards the scattergun at his side, but I doubt he could grab the gun, shoot medic, and not get shot. It wasn't possible.

Our captor eventually had us outside the room. He pushed us onwards, down the dark hall. Last time I had been down here, we'd simply gone straight on down until the end, whereupon we climbed up the trapdoor, into the new base. Now, the person stopped us at a door I had not noticed last time, and with good reason too. This door was just about six feet, and maybe three feet wide. The color was identical to the surrounding walls, dusty brown. There was no visible handle or groove to open it. The gun was lowered from my head, but any thought of escaping was quelled when medic hissed, "Run, and your scout won't be running with you, ja?"

The hand put away the gun. I considered knocking the pistol away from scout's head, but he might end up being faster on the trigger then me with my arm. Medic pushed the door in, and it simply swung inwards.

"Move."

We hurried in, but the gun did not return to behind my head. Was he confident that I couldn't do anything? Perhaps, since the corridor behind the door was pitch black, and I couldn't see a thing. I stepped in webs and unknown objects got in my face. As my foot went, my mind was busy. Could I turn and tackle him? It might startle medic, but then he might let a shot go in his surprise. That could hit scout, or me. We passed by what in the gloom appeared to be a rusty rake, but I doubted it would make much of a weapon.

After a couple of minutes had elapsed, the corridor began to brighten, until a bend was visible. Light shone from around the corner. For whatever reason, the light alarmed medic. Wasn't he intent on bringing us here? Why was he alarmed that the light was on?

"Vhy is zhere…?" Medic's voice died away as he pushed past us. He turned back to us as he adjusted his glasses. "Stay zhere. Zhe vay back cannot be opened unless you have zis key." He held up the object, which was on a small silver chain. "Ja?"

"Yes," I muttered. Had medic forgot I was a spy? Then it occurred to me to check my wrist for the cloaking watch. It was gone! My head shot back up as I glared at medic.

Medic sneered. "Looking for somezink?" He held up my watch.

"How did you…?"

Medic shrugged. "Don't go anyvhere." With that cheerful instruction he walked around the corner. Then he gave a loud scream of anger. There was a clattering noise, followed by a solid thud. "Get _off_ me you pathetic sack of flesh!" More thuds, and then the sound of a grunt of pain. Scout and I glanced at each other. Was medic fighting someone? "Get ze hell avay from me!"

"Let's go see," scout whispered. Then he pointed to the corner. "Age before beauty."

I glared at him. "Pearls before swine," I answered. I strode over to the corner and peeked around. I couldn't stifle the resulting gasp.

There was a _massive_, absolutely **massive, ** room. In fact, the large, at least three stories tall room seemed all the more large since the only thing occupying it was a computer terminal like the one from earlier. It sat against the far wall. The entire place was blindingly white, pure, pale white. I had to squint at first. Then, I noticed that the right wall was covered in machines and beeping devices. In front of them?

"Holy mackerel!" scout yelped.

Medic was in some kind of brawl with…another medic?

"One of em' a spy?" scout asked, watching with wide eyes.

A solid punch landed on one that looked to be already injured. He had blood running down his face from a cut, and his glasses were missing. In comparison, our abductor looked healthy and whole.

"I'm not sure if one of them is a spy…they are remarkably like medic. Except that we only ever had on medic."

Maybe we should have done something, but it was strangely fascinating to watch two identical men fight each other. One seemed to have the disadvantage; the one already in the room. Scout was similarly engrossed, as he watched the proceedings.

The medic who had captured us grabbed the injured medic and pushed him to the side. He kicked at the man's knee, but the other medic sidestepped it. Then, with a hoarse shout, he tackled the original, uninjured medic. I rubbed my eyes. Faint red lines appeared around both men for an instant, and then disappeared.

Scout finally spoke up. "Uh…should we do something?"

"The one who got us 'as the key. We will 'ave to tear it from him," I murmured. Scout looked doubtful.

"I wouldn't wanna get into that fight. Looks ugly."

"Aren't you a brawler?" I asked. "You should be one of those people who leap stupidly into fights between apparent clones while I stand by, watching you break every bone in your body.

"Shut up."

We watched in silence for a minute as the battle escalated. Our capturer rolled, pinning the other medic to the ground underneath him. But the one on the ground lifted his head, causing it to slam into the other's jaw. There was an agonized scream of pain. I think that when his jaw was head-butted shut, he must have bit his tongue. I saw a thin trickle of blood ooze out of his mouth.

Finally, I couldn't stand watching. I ran over, intent on grabbing one of them. A sudden stab of doubt pierced me. Which one should I help? Were they both against me? I supposed I'd have to take a chance. Wait, what chance? 50%? I'll take those odds.

Before I could even begin to act though, scout darted past me, teeth grinding. He dashed forward and seemed to blur, and then suddenly he was right by our captor, the less injured medic. He curled his fingers and I realized what he was going to do.

"Wait! Scout! You can't possibly punch hard enough to—"

There was a dull _crack!_ And then the (then superior) medic flew through the air, a good six or seven feet. He landed with little noise, his face smashing into the ground. I saw drops of blood fly, and the glasses shattered.

The badly injured medic heaved himself into the feet. Then, he seemed to realize that there was a cut on his right thigh. His arms pin wheeled as he stumbled, trying to brace himself on something. I stepped forward and caught him. He twisted his head to look at me, but winced in pain as the movement strained his muscles. Now that I saw him up close, I noticed numerous small injuries all over him. A black eye, a bruised arm. A cut on his right hand and scorch marks on his lab coat.

Meanwhile, scout had heaved the other medic into sitting position against the computer terminal. Like the other one, there were multiple screens. However, all of them displayed static. There were drops of dark red blood all over the keyboard.

Medic (Whoever he is) was trying to break out of my grip. He struggled to get to the computer, or towards his doppelganger. Either way, I wasn't sure whether I should release him.

As it turned out, the decision was made for me. Medic elbowed me roughly in the ribs and as I recoiled, clutching my side, he sprang towards the computer. Scout looked up and saw him coming like a rocket. "Woah, woah! Calm down, doc!" Medic shoved him aside, and began rapidly working on the keyboard. His left arm was twitching every time he moved it too much. Blood mused with perspiration as he worked with incredible zeal.

"What is 'e doing?" I asked scout. Scout stared at medic.

"I...I dunno."

As he furiously typed, one by one the screens flickered with videos. Then, I noticed that one side had footage from the red team, while the other displayed the blue team. Still completely ignoring us and his injuries, (Ignoring us? Fine. Ignoring his injuries? He's probably gonna collapse any moment now.) he worked at the controls. Just as he got the last screen on, his eyes rolled in his head and he tumbled backwards.

"Oh crap!" Scout said. He hurried forward and caught medic. Then, he noticed the blood leaking out of medic's forehead to spill out over scout's hands. "Oh crapcrapcrapcrapcrap!"

"Shut up!" I went over and placed a thumb on medic's neck. A pulse! Ever so faint, but a pulse! Unlike that idiot demoman who…oh wait. Medic severely injured and all. "Is there anything 'ere we can use to stop the bleeding? 'e'll lose too much blood this way!"

Scout frowned, and then his eyes flew wide. A choking gasp forced its way out of his throat, and then he collapsed, medic flopping over him. Behind where scout had stood a moment before, the other medic stood, holding a knife. Rapidly, red static lines appeared around medic until he was gone, to be replaced by the red spy. What in the name of French cheese?

"'ello, my stupid, irritating counterpart!" he said. I turned my gaze downwards as the red spy stuck a cigarette in his mouth. Scout's chest had a steady rise and fall, and there was no visible blood. What exactly had the red spy done? I looked back up. The red spy was holding a small syringe now. He winked. "Good night, mon ami!" And then he stabbed me with the syringe.

…

I awoke with the foul taste of blood in my mouth. Nasty. When blood sits in your mouth it begins to taste odd. I spat out the blood and tried to adjust my mask. I couldn't, since my hands were bound by thick, red tape. I tugged on them experimentally. They were way too strong.

I looked up and got a cloud of smoke in my face. I coughed, and tried to expel the horrible cigarette smoke.

"What's wrong? You smoke everyday!" a jovial voice said. The red spy was standing, leering at me. "You shouldn't mind a little cancer gas, non?"

I spat at him. Perhaps not the smartest choice, but I had the satisfaction of watching the spit land in his right eye. Swearing violently, the red spy rubbed his eye and staggered away. Using his good eye to glare at me, he turned and ran out of the room.

I used his absence to examine my surroundings. Nothing much had changed. The room was still glaringly white. I wanted to close my eyes to shut out the horrible light, but managed to keep them open to examine more of the room. Scout and medic were on either side of me, scout on left, and medic on right. They were bound similarly, but I was interested to see that medic, rather than simply being bound by his hands, was otherwise secured. Tape wrapped around his hands, but it continued up his arm, coiling around with blue stickiness. More tape was wrapped around his feet, and there was tape on his mouth. A thick, black rope tied medic's neck to a small metal ring on the computer terminal. Why was medic wrapped up like that? Did he escape being bound before?

Before I could give it much though, the red spy was back. He glared at me, and then flicked his cigarette at me. I shouldn't have opened my mouth, because it landed right on my tongue. I clamped my mouth shut in surprise, and it looked as though I was smoking.

Red sneered. "Smoking? Did you see the no-smoking sign?" Obviously, there _was_ no "no-smoking" sign. I spat the cigarette out and glared at him. Then, curiosity overrode my hostility and I asked him about medic. "Why do you have docteur bound up like that?"

Red spy blew another smoke cloud at me, but he was standing up while he did so, so the cloud simply billowed away a few inches from my face. "He is…tricky."

"But…how do you have him here?"

Red spy grinned. "I'm really quite lucky I grabbed 'im." Then his face twisted in anger. "I don't know how 'e evaded me all this time. When I heard 'e got amnesia, I was overjoyed. The end to my problems. Now I did not even 'ave to catch 'im. His memory was gone." Spy heaved a shaky breath. He was almost unconsciously spilling his guts. Maybe I could get him to reveal what was happening here. Now though, the red spy was still talking. "Oh, I was careless. I should have known he did not have a contingency plan. I don't know what exactly was on that video clip, but whatever it was, it triggered total recall."

"What clip?" I inquired.

Red exploded. "What clip? THAT clip! The stupid video in his room explaining everything, bringing his memory back! THE clip, which he placed so that shold anything 'appen to 'is stupid memory, he'd have something to recall!" Spy's chest was heaving now. "Oh, you would almost believe 'e 'ad planned to get amnesia! It was all so perfect. Then again, he has contacts, weapons, videos, for almost everything!" Red puffed on his cigarette furiously. "I thought he was gone! Mind-dead! Then, he was only pretending! I saw through his window he was watching something one night, and it was one with 'imself talking! I thought nothing! Now I realize he must have made it so that his amnesia-self would be curious enough to view it!"

Red spy was red-faced now. His skin blended with his mask. "AGH! He comes back in, quiet as that. 'e even-don't ask me how-uses the red terminal to see me! 'e creeps in and when I capture 'im and tie 'is hands, he escapes!" Spy yanked up one sleeve so forcefully I heard a thread snap. There, though, on his left arm, was a nasty series of newly-healed scars. One of them still wept a thin trail of blood. "_See this?!_" Red screeched. "_See my arm? It hurts to move it now, and I will never get these ugly scars off!_" Spy looked as demented as medic just before he had left. A thought occurred to me (Hmm. I suddenly feel smart.) right then. If medic had planned everything, had he planned "going insane" as well?

I tried to think about it, but Red grabbed my shirt and shook me. Obviously, his appearance meant a lot to him. "I am a spy!" he screamed. "And that stupid medic left scars all over my back! What woman likes someone with hideous slashes all over his back?!" Ah, not just his appearance. His reputation as lady-killer meant a lot as well. Personally, I didn't care. I was in my twenties, and it didn't matter to me what others thought.

Red spy suddenly calmed down. "Of course, at least I'll be spared. You lot will all die on this field, medic and all." What was he babbling about? Die here? Not likely. My contract expires in a few months, and then I'm free. Red looked down at me, and a grin spread across his face as he looked in my eyes. Seeming to sense what I was thinking, he laughed. "You think your contract will get you out?" he crowed. He laughed until he started wheezing. Most men can laugh for a considerable amount of time until we run out of air. Sadly, us smokers tend to have considerably less effective lungs, and soon red spy was choking, grasping at his throat. It was almost comical to see.

Eventually, red spy stopped coughing (I had hoped he would keep coughing and die of oxygen deprivation. That would let me escape. Sadly, he lived.) and he turned to me. "You," he said. "Are going to die on this field, in this room or out. Oh, you'll leave. Maybe. Except if you leave, it'll be in a body bag."

I don't like Red.

Medic, I saw, had stirred. I was going to ask if he was alright, but he caught my gaze and shook his head furiously as Red stared off into space. I saw his hands had somehow wormed out of the tape. Now, his hands were working furiously at the tape on his ankles. Amazingly, he peeled off the material. His eyes sank down to stare at the black rope around his neck. Then, he snorted in contempt. I tilted my head. What was so funny?

Medic began to slide down, and then I saw. The rope had a very large loop. It was much larger than medic's head, and he easily slid out. As red turned to me, he saw medic standing, mouth sealed, but otherwise free. "Merde," he whimpered, staring at medic. Medic drew back a leg and kicked him…where it really, really hurts.

Medic watched impassively as red spy doubled over in pain and collapsed. Suddenly, unexpectedly, he reached out an arm to help him up. I tensed. Why was medic helping him?

Red spy glared suspiciously at medic, but grabbed the hand and medic helped him up. Medic smiled, the tape creasing in the shape of his smile. As he grinned, he punched the spy right between his two shrewd eyes, knocking him away a good deal. He ripped off the tape from his mouth, wincing. He looked down at me.

"Vell! Zat vasn't so difficult, ja?"

…

Red spy was bound now. Scout and I were free, although scout was still unconscious.

"Why do **I** have to carry him?" I complained. Medic had hurriedly told us we needed to leave the room. _Now._ Then, he hefted scout towards me, leaving me to carry scout over my shoulder. He wasn't light, either. I bet you he ate way too much chocolate. I think even medic was about his weight now.

Medic turned back at me but kept walking. "I am injured." He tried unsuccessfully to hide a grin.

"You?" I cried. "You just beat up the red spy and escaped tape! Injured, my eye!"

Medic shrugged. "I'm…ah…." Medic trailed off, and I glared at him expectantly. "I…cannot be impeded. I am a little more key to this, seeing as I'm guiding you."

I almost dropped scout and punched medic. When had he became so smug and so…so…irritating? "I'm less…important?"

Medic suddenly stopped. His voice took on a soft, yet dangerous tone. "Be quiet. Very, very quiet, and do not complain." He turned and continued walking. I stood there for a moment, stunned, and then hurried to catch up. I wanted a cigarette, but when I felt for it in my pocket, it was gone. The red spy had likely snatched it. I hadn't had a smoke for nearly two days now. I was going to go insane if I didn't get a cigarette soon.

"M-Medic?" I called. Medic paused, and turned. His face was calm now.

"Yes, Herr Spy…?"

"I, uh, need a cigarette. Can we…go back and g-get…one?" I knew right away by the look on medic's face that I had said something wrong. Actually, my whole _sentence_ had likely been wrong. Medic was very anti-cigarette.

Medic, though, simply looked tired. For a moment, he seemed about to yell something, but all the injuries, blood loss, and stress caught up to him. He heaved a sigh. "Cigarettes…ah mein freund, cigarettes are addicting. Now though, the withdrawal vill be absolutely horrible." He paused, and then looked me over. "I think you can go vizout for anozher hour."

"What?" I practically shouted. I felt the emptiness in my chest, not the emotional kind, the kind you get when you haven't smoked in a couple of days. My knees almost buckled. "Docteur! I-I-I-"

"Be quiet. Here," medic said. He took out a piece of gum. "Chew on zhis!"

"But I need a…a cigarette!" I hadn't noticed that I was feeling strange, because of all the action. Now, I felt panicked. I needed a cigarette!

Medic began unwrapping the gum. He looked at me with some pity. "Ja, ja. Addiction is very strong after a few years." He stepped forward, and before I could stop him, he forced the gum into my mouth. He grabbed my lower jar in his ungloved (His gloves were torn, so he took them off earlier.) and made me chew it twice. A sweet, rich taste flooded my mouth, and I stopped shaking. "Merci."

Medic sighed, and then began leading us back down the hall. "Zat has a little bit of nicotine. Zhere is a lot of sugar in zat as vell, along vith a few…choice materials to distract your brain from ze cigarette. I sink it vill last avound…two hours? Have fun. Vhen it vears off or you spit it out, you are going to be screaming to ze heavens for a cigarette. And you von't find vone."

"What do you mean?" I asked as we continued the walk. "I 'ave plenty in my room."

"Not anymore you don't," medic said. A wry smile appeared on his face. "Pyro went into your room and took zhem all. I sink he vas using zem as bonefire material. I vish I hung avound to see zat."

I could feel the blood draining from my face. "My…my cigarettes are gone?" You may wonder why it is such a big deal. YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING THEN! "They…they are gone?"

"Yes," medic said flatly. "And you are being redundant."

It occurred to me that medic was bound to have cigarettes. He had virtually everything related to the human body or it's functions. "Docteur, you have cigarettes, don't you?"

Medic is one of the most accomplished liars in the world. His face was deadpan as he said, "Nien. I strew zem all out. Ze last medic kept zem for ze spy, but I don't." He would have gotten away with the lie if I were any other man. But I was me, and I could tell by the ever so faint drop of his voice that he was lying.

"You have cigarettes!" I yelled. When I opened my mouth, the gum came out, and the sweet flavor stopped. I grabbed medic's tie and dropped scout. I used my other hand to grab the front of his lab coat. "Give me cigarettes! You must have some on you, medicinal or something! Give me them!" I was being a little rough. However, the shaking was back, along with that hollow, needy sensation. In that moment, I hated myself.

I hated myself for needing the stupid cigarettes.

I hated myself for taking it all out on medic, who really had my health in mind.

I hated myself for thinking about smoking while some plot unraveled, scout was unconscious, and medic was bleeding in eighty different places.

Right then, I just felt deflated, and then I just sank to the ground. Everything was too much. Too blank. I was dimly aware of medic muttering some words quietly.

"…smoking. I alvays said zat it vas stupid…course novone listens to zeir doctor." Cold contempt bit into medic's voice, intermingled with soft pity. Medic was strangely kind all the time, even when angry. Then, he sounded amused. "Now I have to carry zem both…and I sink zey are both heavier zhen me."

I might have offered a suggestion, but I just felt…burned out. Empty. I just sat there, not wanting to move or think, and let myself just go blank. There was a quiet sigh from medic, and then I heard the flick of a lighter. My head jerked up as I smelled a familiar aroma. Then, something was jammed into my lips, a cigarette! I blinked, and then stood up, finding myself face to face with medic, who had his bloody arms crossed. I noticed he looked even more pale than usual, and that the cut on his forehead still bled freely, showing no sign of stopping.

Medic pointed at scout. "Pick him up." As he said this, his voice shook and his eyelids fluttered. His knees also knocked together, just once. Then, he stood tall again, s traight-backed. "Let's go, or zey vill find us.?

"Who's 'they'?" I asked.

Medic turned to me with a small smile. "'They' are the crazy men who vill murder us to keep us quiet," he said cryptically. Why won't he ever answer questions properly?

Scout stirred as we neared the computer room. Medic immediately tensed, as though sensing something that came with scout's awakening. "Go," he said tersely. "Get back up the trapdoor and avay from here. I vill…I vill head zem off."

"'ead who off?" Then I heard the steady footfall of approaching men. "Merde. Who is that?"

Scout woke up and slid off my shoulder, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Medic grabbed me and scout, and then shoved us in the computer room. I heard a click that told us he locked it from the outside. "Wait! Medic!" I shouted. He suddenly reappears after going missing, and now he's pulling the stunt again. I rattled the door handle. Locked. Meanwhile, scout's mind was working to catch up. "What?"

"I'll explain later," I said. "Get u the trapdoor!"

"Whadduboutyou?" he asked, words slurred from his sleepiness.

"I'll come after you," I said. On the other side of the door, I heard medic's voice calling to some other voices. I went swiftly and pulled myself up the trapdoor. The last thing I heard in that room was a bloodcurdling scream, and then several gunshots. My blood ran cold as I shut the trapdoor. Was medic dead?

Scout tugged me along, until we tumbled into engineer's room. Scout was on my back, and I winced in pain. "Scout," I gasped. My cigarette almost came out, but I carefully repositioned it. "I think you 'ave paralyzed me. Get off!"

I stood once scout was no longer compressing my back into an accordion. Dusting myself off, I looked up to find myself staring at the slightly shorter engineer. I smiled sheepishly. "Uh, 'ello?"

Engineer glared at me. "What are ya' doing in my room?"

"Checkin' out the computer," scout cut in. He went on with a made-up story. "It was all creepy, man. Videos of everything." It was a good story, except engineer had other information.

"Not likely, boy," engineer mused. He scratched the back of his neck. "You two haven't been seen for an entire day!" A crooked grin spread onto his face (Everyone is grinning lately. It is officially scaring me.) "There are little, little stories about what you two are off two alone."

Scout whacked engineer's hardhat with his scattergun. "Shut up."

Engineer rubbed his helmet. "Calm down. I need ta' know the truth."

"I will tell you," I said seriously. "But please give me time. Just a little time."

Engineer nodded. "Fine. Tell me tomorrow." He waved us out of is room, then shut and locked the door.

I went to the med bay, but immediately fell asleep on one of the beds. Scout had gone to his room. Exhaustion blacked out my mind.

I awoke to a burning smell. My tie was on fire. "YAAAH! MERDEF—"

"Oh calm down, herr spy," a voice said. My head snapped up. I beat out my tie with my hands. Medic sat in his chair, back to me, working on some documents. Medic was caked with blood, some even in his hair, matting it. Other portions of his hair stood up, giving him a rather demented appearance.

"Docteur?" I rubbed my eyes. "That is…you?"

"Yes," he proclaimed, still not turning around. Then his voice lowered. "I vas vondering vhen you were going to vake up and notice zat you fell asleep with your cigarette in mouth. Zhn your tie caught fire…heh."

"Docteur?" Why wasn't he showing his face. "Is-Is something wrong?"

Medic sighed, and leaned back. "Why do you say zat?"

"Can you turn around?" I asked. "I feel like I'm talking to a wall."

Medic was silent, and then very slowly stood. Even more slowly, he turned to face me. My heart nearly stopped. "JESUS! JESUS CHRIST!"

"A holy being has little to do vith zis," medic said softly.

The right side of medic's face had been scorched black. It was red and black at the same time, just like the time with medic's back, when we found him collapsed. How is it medic suffers this all the time and treats it like it is nothing? My gaze was drawn to the scorched area by his lips. His mouth seemed unharmed, but beside it was all that horrible, blackened skin. His other injuries were gone, and I noticed his medi-pack was glowing, sending a thin blue mist over him.

"What the…'ell 'appened to you?" I asked meekly. That was a horrible wound. His right face looked like an overcooked hamburger. With blood on it.

Medic tried to smile, but stopped as the scorched flesh by his mouth cracked. Picture someone where half his face has withered and turned coal-black. Medic was quite that image.

I hurried over and pushed medic down into a chair. "What the 'ell 'appened?" I repeated.

Medic leaned back in his chair. "I suppose you ought to know zat none of us are leaving here."

"What do you mean?"

A sneer crossed medic's face. There were enough unscorched muscles to do that. "You sink your contract means anything? I speak of how long you vill be here. You vill be here until you die. Vezher or not you have family, you vill die here."

"Medic," I said, fearful. "You don't know what you're talking about. The trains will pick us up!"

Medic laughed hoarsely, and then stopped, gingerly touching his burned skin. "Spy…novone has left here for ages. Zey are forgetting zeir homes. Some of zem have families. Some do not. Not too many of us die off, so many of us have been here for a vhile." He drew in a small breath. "Sink carefully. Scout said his contract was six months. He has been here a couple of years, nien?"

I thought about it. It sounded right, as far as I knew. "So he decided to stay longer. So what?"

Medic's face was losing some of the black color, but it still looked horrifyingly burned. "Novone is leaving. Novone. Zey are simply sent nice little letters zat zey vill be paid more for staying longer." Medic snorted. "I can't believe I fell for it originally. At ze end of my eight months, zhere vas no train. I got a notice that my pay vould be doubled. I so foolishly let it go. Zen vone day I got suspicious. Three months later, and novone on ze team could remember their homes."

I shook my head, not accepting it. "Medic, stop. Just rest."

But medic plowed on. "I found ze kitchen trapdoor on accident. I had dropped a ring-"

"A ring?" I asked, interested.

"Zat doesn't matter," medic said irritably. "Anyvay, I found it sitting on a very faint indent. Ze trapdoor." Medic's eyes gained a faraway look. "Zat computer revealed all. It even had videos of meetings between the announcer and such. Even vorse, ze vecent red spy has been recruited by zem to keep an eye on me. Zey realized what I was up too."

"Medic!" I said loudly. "You are delirious from the pain!" Medic was babbling. He was apparently beyond reason.

What happened next happened too fast to follow. Medic was up in a blur of white, and then he had me by the tie, much as I had him in the tunnels. His face was inches from mine. I got the not-so-nice view of blue mist washing over his burned face.

"Look at me!" medic said. "Look at mein eyes! Do you sink I am babbling?! Do my words really seem like zat of ze madman?! LOOK AT ME!"

I'd been trying to turn my eyes from his horrible burned face. Now I met his icy, frozen eyes. I felt like I was drowning in their depths. Ever look at something and imagine that thing or whoever that thing belongs to could suffocate you?

"Do. My. Words. Sound. Crazy?"

"N-Non!" Medic released me, and I rubbed my throat. "But, who were the men who attacked you?"

"Anozher team. I sink zat Red Mann and Blu Mann are dead, but whoever is in control now sent zem after me. Zey are like zis team, but…." He trailed off.

"But what?" I prompted.

"Zey vere robots." The confusion was evident in his eyes. "And zhen…and zhen vhen ze robot medic approached me on ze vone vheel, it didn't do anysing. It just stared at me wis zat lazer eye!" Medic's voice was taking on a heavier accent by the second in his distress. "Zen, I barely escaped. I have seen zose robots twice. Ze first time vas vhen I was in ze computer room. A spy bot attacked me."

Medic, I was sure, was well and truly insane. "Docteur," I said. "You should sleep."

"Ja, ja. I should," medic mumbled distractedly.

Once I'd lead him to one of the patient's beds and placed the glowing medi-pack near him, I left, rubbing my forehead. Medic fought someone in the corridor, but robots? Not leaving? It didn't make any sense.

As these hazy thoughts drifted around my head, I walked straight into a wall.

AN: Thanks for the reviews. I will put a very brief recap: Weird medic. There you go. As I type this, it is getting late, and the last few paragraphs were the ideas that come when I'm about to fall asleep on my keyboard.


	9. Chapter 9: The Dove is Smarter

AN: Once again, thanks for the reviews, Wepul, Xguy110, LilyRosetheDreamer, and of course, CrazyGirlMe. (Thanks, by the way, for that "yavore/jawholl" correction.) Separately, thank you, Tokyo Sunset, XxSiberianTigerxX, and Ice Assassin Ace.

When morning swung around the corner, I really wasn't ready for it. The sun shot in through my window, and I flipped the pillow onto my face. I finally tossed the pillow at the window. It didn't stop the light, but it made me feel better.

I lay there, breathing slowly, as my mind began to return to full activity. My first thought was, _Is Medic insane?_ Followed by, _I'm hungry, and why haven't we gone to Coldfront yet?_ It was true, that we should have been at coldfront. In theory, yesterday. For whatever reason, we weren't being moved yet. I wondered briefly if it had anything to do with medic's actions yesterday. I groaned. Medic was a trouble-magnet. What's worse, he seemed to enjoy trouble, and ignored any injuries he received along the way. He's not all that great a medic, in that case.

I considered lying there some more, and to get some more sleep. I couldn't, though, since as I thought it a dove appeared on my windowsill and began pecking it. _Donk. Donk. Donk._

Stupid dove…dove?

I bolted upright. Doves didn't hang around battlefields unless their mad medic owner was there. Or if something happened to their mad medic owner.

"Docteur!" I growled to myself. I threw on a suit, forgetting to button it and leaving my tie. I just pulled on the rest of my clothing and hurried to the med bay. Medic wasn't there. The first thing in the morning, my medic goes missing. I paused as my mind jumped to that. People tend to consider their medic a possession, rather than person. I shrugged. He's not here anyhow.

I looked around the room. Somehow, I doubted he was in the building at all.

_Donkdonkdonkdonkdonkdonkdonk ._

The same dove was back, pecking at the med bay window. I glared at it.

"Go away, bird. Your master isn't here."

The dove shook itself, and then continued to peck at the window.

_Donkdonkdonkdonkdonkdonkdonk donkdonkdonkdonkdonkdonkdonk donkdonk._

"Ah, FFFFFFFF!" I stormed over to the window and threw it open, ready to slap the stupid white pigeon away. The "pigeon" held up its leg when I opened the window. What?

There was a tiny scroll of paper on the leg, bound by a piece of string. I untied it slowly, and took it. Once that was done, the dove hopped in and began poking at a particularly shiny floor tile. Ignoring its bird antics, I read the minute message. There wasn't much space, and the writing was heavily abbreviated.

_ Spy. Ignr me. Jst kp dng ur job. Whn u r abl to, go 2 the cmptr trminl and blw it up. I wld exln, but I dnt thnk ths brd can hld an entre bk of info._

I stared at the message like it was a cursed object. What was _with that stupid medic?_ He never explained, his actions were all so infernally abrupt and sudden. All his activities seemed extreme, and…GRAH!

I tore up the paper and threw the pieces on the ground. The dove began trying to eat the piece with the "2" on it.

I massaged my eyes and sat down in medic's desk. There was another note there. "Chocolate in Desk." I slid open the left drawer to find it crammed with various chocolates. Medic is ridiculous. Strange conspiracies, vanishing, reds having weird machines and red spies being some kind of agent, and he worries about _chocolate_.

I was not a fan of chocolate, but then in the right drawer (Why am I going through his desk? I'm curious! Tell me that you wouldn't open a mad scientist's desk to see what's inside.) was a cigarette pack and another note.

_You are too nosy, spy._

Medic is psychic.

I grabbed the cigarette pack and opened it, peering into it. There was a single cigarette, along with several pieces of gum. Hmm.

I lit the cigarette and drew in an ashy breath. The cigarette had several tiny sketches of skulls on its side, their meaning obvious. "Very funny, Docteur, very funny," I muttered. Were there more notes? The other drawers were locked. I considered picking them, but decided against it. Now I was distracted by the dove pecking my hand.

"Ow! Go away, infernal bird!" The bird, rather than leave, twisted around to reveal a tiny note on the back.

_Ths is Pasteur. I wld snd Archimedes or Newton, or maybe anther dve, but I thnk you'll lk ths guy, ja?_

Aside from the fact all his birds are named after historical men related to philosophy or science, he is SO ANNOYING. If I see him again I am going to punch him right in the self-satisfying, genius…smart…intelligent…uh….

Ugh.

Rolling my eyes, I bent down and allowed the bird to hop onto my hand. It sat on the back of my hand, staring at me with wide, deep eyes. Birds have large eye size-to-head ratios. It flapped its wings rapidly and flew towards me shoulder. It landed there, perching there confidently. Then, it jabbed my neck with its beak.

"OW! You little-" I grabbed at it, and was interrupted by scout's voice.

"Where's doc?"

I turned, and I must have looked ridiculous. Pasteur sat on my shoulder. My left hand was curled into a fist, trying to punch myself, it seemed.

"Uh…what are you doing? And why is there a bird on your shoulder?"

I tried to push the bird away, but it landed on my head (Very familiar. Is this the same bird as the last time?) and dug in resolutely. I sighed. "Medic has told us to get on with our lives, act like nothing happened. Stupid."

Scout frowned. "After we were attacked? When the red spy was, like, a spy, uh…."

"I know," I interjected. "But now, I have a pet dove and medic is gone."

"That guy is a….URGH!"

"I know," I muttered. "Now help me get this bird off my head."

Scout shook his head and laughed quietly. "Nah, he looks happy on your head. You two are pet and master, huh?"

Pasteur pecked my head, and I recoiled. Letting out a scream of anger (I lost my temper. SO-RRY!) I swatted the bird from my head. It fell off and fell with a thud on the ground.

Scout yelped and picked it up. It twitched feebly. "What the hell, spy?"

"It's the bird's fault," I mumbled, rubbing my head. "Well," I added ruefully. "I doubt it was smart enough to know it was wrong."

"See!" Scout put the bird on one of the patient beds. "Now don't accidentally sit on him!"

"Since when are you an animal rig'hts activist?"

"Since you tried to squish the bird!"

"It's a dove," I said nonchalantly. "Leave it 'ere. Let's go get breakfast."

Scout ran past me to the kitchen, saying something about "pancakes". I shrugged and followed. Pyro was in the kitchen, staring at something in the fridge. Scout was looking over his shoulder. When I entered, pyro turned to me. "Chhhk? Mmmm? Hmm?"

"Er, what?"

Pyro took out a large cake, and I did a double-take. That was the cake amnesia-medic made! Why was I still calling him that?

Pyro cut a slice of the frosted white cake. I noticed the top had a dove drawn in red, crystalized sugar. Scout cheered silently and sat down. I watched him as his eyes followed pyro's cutting movements.

"Merci," I said, snatching the slice of cake before scout got it. Scout yelled something unintelligible and lunged at me. I kicked out on reflex, catching him in the stomach. He doubled over, mouthing curses.

"Uh, excusez moi," I said hurriedly. Scout glared at me murderously. Pyro, seeing the volcanic temper that scout had building, sliced another piece and shoved it in front of scout's face. Three seconds later, it was gone, and scout was wiping crumbs from his mouth. That boy can eat faster and more than a starving lion. Why am I saying boy? He's one year younger than me.

Pyro was still staring at the cake strangely. I understood why. The inside was sickly, pale green. It also seemed to be glowing. Within the spongy green section, there was a blue glop that wobbled slightly in place. I suddenly didn't trust medic's cooking skills. "Scout?" I asked, turning to him. "Do you feel alright?"

Scout looked confused. "Yeah, why?"

Pyro hurried over with a brown bag, and wrote with a marker, "BARF BAG". Onto it. Then, he (it?) gave the bag to scout. Scout took it and shook his head. "I said, I don't feel sick. I'm not gonna throw up."

I went over and pushed him into a seat. Then, I placed the bag in front of him and crouched down, leaning in slightly. "Pyro, please show Scout the cake."

Pyro would have looked surprised, but you can't look surprised through a mask. He pushed the cake and turned it so scout could see the cut area.

"Did I just eat that?" scout asked weakly. His face gained a faint, green pallor.

Then, he threw up on me.

Once scout was done retching, I fled to my room to wash off. "YEUCH!"

Once I was no longer covered in thirteen percent digested cake, I made my way back to the kitchen, unable to wipe a scowl off.

"Well?" I said to scout angrily. "Did it taste that bad?"

Scout smiled sheepishly. "Uh…it actually tasted really good."

I almost threw my knife at him. "WHAT? Then why the 'ell did you throw up?"

"Well…the cake, uh…the cake looked gross, so….yeah…?" He put on what he must have thought was a winning smile. It wasn't. "D-Didn't you expect me to barf?"

I swore explosively for a minute.

Pyro had already mopped up the floor, and scout just sat there, smiling meekly.

"Sorry."

"It's alright, scout," I said, sighing heavily. "So it tasted good?" My cake slice was untouched, on the table.

Scout nodded. "It was good…it just looked…it looked…."

"I get it scout." I took a fork and ate a piece of the cake. I wondered again if medic had really lost his memory. Didn't baking a cake require rather vital knowledge? The cake, as it turned out, was rather nice. Sweet, edible, and in general, good. Creamy, too. I didn't throw up, and looked reproachfully at scout. Meanwhile, pyro put away the rest of the cake, holding it at arm's length, as though fearful of being poisoned by it.

I polished off the cake trying not to remember its appearance.

Now, the rest of the team was up. Heavy cornered scout and I in the hall. "Where is doc-tor?"

Scout and I exchanged glances. "Uh…."

"Yes?"

"'e is taking a vacation," I said. A pretty pathetic excuse, but, sufficient for heavy, it seemed.

"Da! Okay." He wandered away, humming. He believed that? One day, I'm going to get medic to do an IQ test on everyone in the base.

Scout and I made our way to the med bay. Pasteur was up, looking none the worse from me slapping him. Or her. Male? Female? Bird…thingy.

The dove ignored me when I entered, but when scout sat down on the bed by it, it jumped onto his knee, cooing. Scout grinned at me. "Your pet deserted you." He ran a finger along the bird's spine, smoothing its feathers.

"Good," I said dismissively, not the least bothered. "Now _you_ take care of it. Although, I wonder if doves are edible?"

Scout picked up Pasteur and looked at me angrily. "Don'tcha dare!"

"Okay, okay. I jest. Now let's deal with the computer."

"'Deal with' the computer?"

"Blow it up," I said simply.

Scout looked at me, wide-eyed. "What? Why would medic want you to do that?"

"Who knows why medic does anything? I'm going to trust 'im just this once. After all, he is pretty smart, oui?" I paused, thinking. "Although 'e is one of the most irritating men on this planet, you know."

Scout got an idea. "I think I'll have some of his chocolate." Then his face fell. "Oh wait…he melted it."

I snickered audibly, and scout glared at me. "What's so freaking funny?"

"Medic left you an entire drawer of chocolate." I instantly regretted saying it as scout leapt towards medic's desk, pulling out the drawer I spoke of. His eyes widened.

"Sweet!"

"In more ways than one," I muttered.

Scout rooted through the chocolates, eating a couple along the way. Then he froze, looking down at something in the drawer. Curious, I went over and looked over his shoulder. Where scout had dug away the candy and made a hole was a note. Medic left so many notes. I wondered yet again if there were more.

_Hello, Herr scout. I don't doubt for a second you'll not find this. If my guess is correct, spy will be seeing this too, since when you're in here he is as well. For starters, I restocked my cabinet. There is also a cauldron (I was in a Halloween mood.) of the melted chocolate in the computer room. However, I must remind you to destroy it. Blow it up, set it on fire, I do not care. DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR, UNLOCK IT, OR EXIT THE ROOM. Do this within three days. With any luck, I will be back by then. If not, I doubt you'll ever see me again. Destroying the computer is vital, so do so when possible. No pressure._

Scout stepped away from the note. I expected him to say something in awe, but instead he ran towards the chocolate cabinet and threw open the doors. "YUSH!" Inside it was full of various kinds of chocolate. What disturbed me was that many of them were the sickly aqua color the cake had been. Scout ate one experimentally. "Tastes like white chocolate. Try one?"

I shook my head. "Scout, focus! We must remove the computer!" I revised my statement. "Destroy the computer!"

Scout took an armful of chocolate and walked out of the med bay, ignoring me resolutely. I swore and followed him. "Scout, forget the chocolate. Let's get rid of the computer."

"Relax, spook. We got three weeks!"

"Three days," I corrected. "Look, scout," I said, exasperated. "The chocolate is great, but we've got to do something about the computer!"

Scout went all the way to his room and dumped his candy load on his desk. Then, he sat down in front of the desk and popped a piece of milk chocolate in his mouth and chewed slowly, eyes closed. "…cking awesome."

"Scout, we have to do something about the computer!"

Scout relented. He turned to me slowly. "Fine. You get hold of a bomb or something, and I'll use it on the computer, okay?"

So scout would still be lazing around for a while. Sighing, I left to find demo. Anything explosive seemed to deal with him.

Demo was in his room, fiddling with his sticky bomb launcher.

"Er, demo?" I said cautiously. "Do you have any explosives?"

Demo looked up. "Yae think I won' have no explosives with me? Wot kindae demo doesn't have his explosives?!"

"I-I didn't mean to offend. Can I have some kind of time bomb, one that I can easily set?"

Demo looked thoughtful. Well, as thoughtful as you can be when your eyes are glazed from alcohol and you're swaying as you sit. "Yae…there be some kindae bomb ah can give yae. But the bomb'll have a teensie blast, so it cannae do much more than blow a couple a feet!"

"That's prefect!" I said hurriedly.

Demo nodded and began rooting through a small metal safe. He took out a metal box. It had a red button on it. Everyone knows what red buttons do. Demo winked at me with his still-present eye. "Press it, and ya' have thirty seconds, ya?"

"Thank you," I said slowly. I took the bomb and weighed it. Quite heavy despite its compact size. "Push button and blow up the computer."

Demo's head swiveled back to me. "Computer?"

"Eh…never mind."

Demo wouldn't let it go. "What computer, laddie. Yer using mah bomb to blow up a computer?"

"Demo, it is nothing. I don't intend to blow up a computer, I was just wondering if there was one in the base." I prayed he bought it. After all, I had quite clearly said, "blow up the computer". I felt sweat bead on my forehead, under the mask.

Demo considered my words for a minute, and then shook his head. "None of my business."

Sighing with relief, I ran towards scout's room.

Inside, scout had demolished half his chocolate pile and was now examining his Shortstop gun. He looked up as I entered and held up the gun. "You think this is better? Or is Force-a-Nature better? I mean, Force-a-Nature has da weaker bullets, but…."

I held up the bomb impatiently. "We press, we have thirty seconds."

Scout had not registered my words quite right. His brain was in slow-mode. "Uh…?"

I swore. "You take bomb. You put on computer. You press big red button. You run back. It blow up and kill evil computer. Comprende?"

"Sh-shut up! I'm not stupid!" scout growled.

"You were acting like it," I answered coldly. "Now get that bomb over there and send that computer to hell, mon ami."

"There's a computer hell?" scout asked.

I threw the bomb at him and he yelled in surprise. He barely caught it. "Are you trying to fucking blow me up?"

"Sorry. Now go blow up the computer."

Scout, muttering darkly, ran out, holding the bomb gingerly. Once he rounded the corner and was out of sight, I collapsed onto his bed. I sat there, fuming about the irritating medic and sweet-addicted scout.

An agonizing hour passes, and worry set in. It should have taken maybe fifteen minutes to go to the room, set the bomb, and come back. Ten was probably a better guess. I made my way out and hurried to engineer's room, adjusting my tie as I went.

Engineer was in his room, scribbling on blueprints, cursing when he made an error. He glanced up. "Spah. What can I do for you?"

"Where is scout?"

Engineer looked confused. "What do ya mean?"

"Scout came in here an hour ago," I said, fighting the rising panic in my chest.

Engineer shook his head. "Ah got here 45 minutes ago. Not seen hide nor hair of him at all."

I ran to the trapdoor and pushed the stool under it. Engineer watched me silently. As I heaved myself up, I heard engineer muttering something about crazy people.

Crawling along the duct was rather uncomfortable business. My knees scraped the metal uncomfortably, and I felt my right sleeve tear against a protruding sliver of steel. When at last I made it to the trapdoor, I looked down into the room. The computer resembled a charred mass of twisted metal. Wires stood amongst the mass, still sparking weakly. The walls were scorched but relatively undamaged. I dropped down and looked around, trying to find something that hinted scout's whereabouts. The back door stood open.

I drew in a sharp breath when I noticed this; medic had, after all, said not to. However, I had a suspicion scout opened it anyway, out of sheer curiosity.

Stupid brat.

I peeked into the corridor and confirmed there was nobody holding a gun to my head in the immediate vicinity. Great. That is a first.

Now began another dusty passage. Crawling through a musty, old, dirty, creepy place was the same as walking through a musty, old, dirty, creepy place. I coughed as dust flew around my face. Last time, when the red spy had nabbed us, he'd opened a side door. I found the door and pushed it in, but the giant white room was gone. It had been sealed off by a solid wall of cement. I ran a finger along its length and pulled away with a layer of dust on my hand. Nobody had been here for a while…or there was a dust monster living on the cement.

I ran down the passage towards the other base. I wondered if Coldfront was connected too? However, the trapdoor was sealed shut.

Then I saw the dove.

Pasteur stood in front of me, cooing softly. It nudged my shoe with its beak. Cute, but right now scout was missing.

I went past him to search the corridor again, but felt him latch onto my foot. I glared down at him. "Get off my foot or I'll cook you alive."

The bird sat there, staring up at me. Then, it hopped off and began pecking at one of the locked doors on the side. I looked at it. "The doors are locked, you stupid bird." I went over. I wasn't sure why I was trying to prove something to a bird, of all things, but when I gripped the handle it turned and the door slid inwards. I looked down at Pasteur. If birds could look smug, Pasteur's face would have been radiating _I told you so_.

It strutted past me, bobbing its head arrogantly. Well, birds bob their heads as they move, but this one…it was oozing superior stuff.

I considered stepping on it, and then my mind turned to medic's sharp tools and demented personality. I changed my mind.

The bird lead me a few feet to a solid wall. "Brilliant, Pasteur," I said sarcastically. (I'm talking to a bird! I feel stupid.) "A dead end. What now?"

The bird, I am embarrassed to admit, is smarter than me. It flew up and pushed its beak into a very obvious button. The door slid downwards, rumbling into the ground.

The bird turned to me and cocked its head.

"Fine!" I yelled. "Fine, you're a smart bird!" I stomped past it into the resulting room. It was like a bunker of sorts. It was small, cramped room. In the far corner, there was an untidy bed. The only other thing was a desk and a chair sitting in the other corner…and scout was in the chair. When he heard me enter, he turned.

"Hey, spook! How didja get here?"

"SCOUT!" I screamed. "'OW THE 'ELL ARE YOU 'ERE? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO COME BACK AFTER THE BOMB!"

Scout covered his ears and glared at me reproachfully. "You oughta fight soldier in a shouting contest."

I threw my butterfly knife at him. It was sheathed, but it struck his head and he yelped.

Scout threw the knife back at me, and I caught it. "Well? What is this room, and why were you gone for nearly an hour?"

"Oh, was I gone that long? I was looking at this." Scout held up a large book. There were photos and notes inside. "It's really cool."

"What _is_ it?"

"I have no idea. Come look!" He flipped to the first page and showed it to me.

It was an old, yellowed, black-and-white photo of the announcer and two other men sitting at a table. The two were old, beyond ancient, and hooked up to strange machines. They were glaring at each other while the announcer sat cross-armed. A caption was written, and I recognized it as medic's handwriting. But the date was decades ago. _My first entry, and with any luck, myself and the medics after me will continue. Announcer meets with Blutarch and Redmond. Beginning of official battle. Original mercenaries are dead. Talk of a "respawn" system._

I frowned. "It says 'medics after me'."

Scout shrugged. "Keep reading!"

The caption below was dated the day after. There was a picture of the announcer meeting yet again, but this time with only one of the men. The photo was black and white, ut by the darker shade I'd guess it was Redmond. _Redmond gets announcer to work for him._

Next, it was her meeting with Blutarch. _The day after the Redmond meeting, announcer begins working for Blutarch as well._

The announcer was talking with a young woman. _Ms. Pauline is recruited._

The next entry was four years later. It was a picture of the medic who had been putting these entries. He was a little larger and older than our medic. Our medic had always been a little…twiggy. Our medic also seemed very young. The medic in this picture was bleeding. _My last few years have bore no entries. I know precisely what to do with this. There was no way out for me, nien, they want to keep me here. They know what I am up to. This is the last entry I will make. The next medic will take on this project later. I have set it up so they found this journal well into their job. I may be insane, they say, but I am clear now. Being a mad doctor, which I have been, is pointless now. I am going to die, and I am going to die here._

Scout said, "Damn, he's so serious."

"Wouldn't you be, if you were dying?"

"No, I'd be panicking."

I rolled my eyes and checked the next entry. The handwriting was similar, but larger and loopier. It had a picture of the medic at the time. He was middle-aged, and his hair was evidently greying. The picture was still black and white. The date was set two years after the last entry. _I have discovered this journal, and I realize what my predecessor has done. He has created a timeless piece, and he is praying someone will be able to free the mercenaries. I myself was fooled by this promise of money. I think there will be trouble for me soon, but I will be discreet. The cameras cannot reach me. They are a new technology, and they are not yet installed in the medical bay. I will, however, start something the first medic has not done. I think it would be prudent to write my name, nien? I am Alfons Herm. Officially, the second medic of BLU._

I set it down and considered the bit about cameras. This entry really was old, seeing as the security cameras were called new technology. I did not doubt that the footage would be unclear and blurry, but it would watch them

Now there was a picture of Blutarch talking to the announcer. _I found a network of air ducts that the first medic used to crawl around. In my opinion, it should be the spy who is entrusted with all this sneaking around, but it was the medic who discovered what has happened at first, so it is my job now. I am curious of whether the reds are aware of this plot. At any rate, the picture is of one of the meetings. This is to the best of my memories that I write this:_

_ BLUTARCH: Have we got the second round of mercenaries up?_

_ ANNOUNCER: Yes, we have. The red medic from the first generation was troublesome, so I had him killed._

_ BLUTARCH: Good. Now with any luck, my force can take my idiotic brother's land from him at last._

_ ANNOUNCER: (She smiled here) Redmond has another force in effect now._

_ BLUTARCH: WHAT?!_

_ ANNOUNCER: My apologies. Redmond has a second generation of forces, much as you do. We have also gotten an interesting system up. The Respawn system._

_ BLUETARCH: EH? What's that mumbo jumbo?_

_ ANNOUNCER: It allows the men, as long as they are within the devices range, to recover from 'death' and fight the reds._

_ BLUTARCH: Good. My brother doesn't stand a chance._

_ ANNOUNCER: He has it too._

_ BLUETARCH: WHAT?! (At this point I saw him coughing and wheezing.)_

_ There the meeting became too dangerous because I sneezed. The announcer began looking for me._

"What's the next one?"

I flipped through the pages. "The next few months are random pictures of the team, but nothing useful. Oh, here's one. Two years later. Look, it's a funeral."

_The announcer is dead. I crept in and saw her coffin. She really does look like a vulture. Hook nosed and scowling. Not unlike the spy, minus the scowling. Once again I wish the spy was doing this, not me. I am a medic, not a duct-crawler. After this, the new announcer came. I'd swear the new one was an evil twin, younger. The respawn system is tiresome, but the higher ups are intent on us fighting until our deaths._

The next entry was four years later. There was the medic again, face more lined and tired. _I think this is the end of my path, ja? I have avoided it, but I cannot find a way to escape it. I will leave though, even if in the form of ashes._

"What the hell does that mean?" Scout wondered aloud.

"We'll soon see. Look, this third medic is younger." The picture had faint colors to it now. He looked like a stronger version of our medic. _The last medic died three years ago. It took me a while to find this notebook. I wanted to pass it to spy, but then I saw our spy talking with the announcer. Perhaps he is trustworthy, but he might let slip to the vulture. The entire team is new, although it has been merely a decade. In keeping with this odd tradition, I am Friedrich Sektor._

I rubbed my sore eyes and looked away. "This medics are all so strange. I don't understand why they didn't hand it off though, it really is something a spy would do."

Scout laughed softly. "Well, you are a spook, so you'd say that. Don't get what one guy can do, though."

A week later entry showed Blutarch and Redmond arguing at a table, while the announcer stood passively. _The two meet at a suggested temporary truce for Christmas. Instead, they force the mercs to fight even more._

A month later there were two pictures, one showing the spy of the time. He had his mask on, of course. The other showed the heavy. There were surprisingly few appearance variations. _Good teammates, them both. I couldn't keep the secret, I am that bad of a zip-lipped. Heavy doesn't care. He is more worried about lunchtime. Spy, though, investigated the ducts. He never came back. I found his corpse in a ditch. Crumpled in his hands was a paper that said, "Contingency."_

"This is freaky," scout said. "It's also freaky how everyone from every gen looks so…like…similar."

I smirked. "Maybe we'll see a picture of the other scouts, eh?"

The next entry was dated the next year, the same day. The medic lay on a bed. It was an above shot. There was blood leaking from his neck. The words were written in neat print.

_Someone took this photo of the third medic. I'm the fourth, but I'm not going to put my picture here. The third medic shot himself, and I wondered, will I break too? NAME: Thomas Wright. Please ignore my American name. German parents sometimes fall in love with America and embarrass their child. I won't make the mistake of telling the spy. He is a downright bloodthirsty man, but then, I am too. The respawn system mentioned in the past entries is not active now. I had never even heard of it until this, and since our heavy got shot…died…and stayed dead, I'd say it's not working._

An entry the next day was even stranger.

_ I am being followed. I fled the base, and I think there may actually be a way free. I write this now as I read a map. The train goes towards a station, and then goes to other locations where it picked us all up. In theory, getting on the train will get you back to where you started. I will return the book to the way it should be, since I very much doubt I'll be seen again. The only thing I will miss is heavy's constant stream of compliments and scout's sarcastic jokes._

I looked at scout. "You don't make sarcastic jokes."

He turned his nose up. "So?"

I didn't want to keep reading. I didn't. It was a bit boring, yet so strange to think that all these words were written by people separated by a decade, now all dead. I needn't have worried that the next entry was too strange. That is because our medic was the next one. The crazy medic who does disappearing stunts and play with doves. The crazy medic that bakes weird cakes and stockpiles chocolate. The crazy medic that inexorably, the entire team misses.

Our medic had a picture of himself. He was standing with a dove on his shoulder. It occurred to me the other medics had doves in their pictures too. Was there a dove breeding facility on the grounds? Or maybe the medics had developed something to make the doves live forever.

Our medic wrote in his neat handwriting, _MEDIC #5. Ken Nachtwanderer. I believe I have found the way out._

That was all. There were plenty of blank pages, but that was it.

Scout put the book down and sighed. Then he adjusted his earpiece and turned to me. "How did ya' get in anyway? You've gotta be pretty smart. It took me ages to find that button."

"I didn't," I said, face growing red. "The bird opened it."

Scout burst out laughing. "So the bird's smarter than you!"

"Yes," I whispered. "Yes it is."

The bird has a smug face on.

AN: Acquaintance of mine (Not friend. He is an idiot who puts me in a headlock everyday.) Found out I was an FF writer. He said I must be a yaoi writer. Strange words coming from a pervert. Also, grammar problems are to be expected. FF alters my writing when I upload. *sad face* If you see a major error, please inform me. Danke.


	10. Chapter 10: Dead and Dying

AN: Read and review, please.

Three days. Three agonizing, slow days. The first day, the journal, the computer, the way out. The second day, lazing around, anxious. The third day, worry and fear, along with mental questions about medic's whereabouts.

_Do this within three days. With any luck, I will be back by then. If not, I doubt you'll ever see me again._

I swear I could see the words floating in front of my eyes, taunting me and drifting about. Written in medic's neat-yet-messy scrawl, the words flew around in my mind's eye.

Scout and I were sitting in front of the base. Combat had been cancelled for mysterious reasons. I was suspicious that it had something to do with medic. What I still didn't get was the strange "you'll die here" part. I don't think they could actually stop us leaving, could they?

Pyro came out and sat by us. He was holding a dead fish on a handle. He caught me staring and chuckled. With a flourish, he handed it off to scout. Who took it.

"Holy mackerel!"

I frowned. "I've heard of 'holy crap', 'holy shit', and…er, 'holy cow feet' (From engie)"

Scout shook his head and waved the fish around. It made a wet, slapping noise. "No, it's CALLED 'holy mackerel'!" He leapt up and slapped me with it, causing my head to snap to the side. I heard the smack of the fish and the crack of my neck. Pyro leaned over and reached out towards my head. He grabbed both sides and slowly twisted my head back, like I was some plastic toy.

"Uh…thank you, I think."

I reached out and snatched the fish from scout's hands. "Enough. Stop playing with that thing. Eat it if you intend to keep it."

Scout looked affronted. "Eat a bat?"

"It's not a bat, it's a dead fish."

"It's a bat."

"It's a dead fish."

"Mmph mm hmph nmm."

"See? Pyro agrees with me!" I said. I actually wasn't sure he did. The only people who understand pyro with his mask on is another pyro.

Pyro shook his head. "Mmph btt."

"It's a bat!"

"Shut up, boy! It's a fish!"

"Has anyone ever told you that you two fight like an old couple?"

"Yep," I said.

Wait. Who said that? Not pyro, he has a mask on.

My head whipped around to stare out at the middle of the field.

Scout followed my gaze, and pyro did as well. We sat there for a moment, staring at the blindingly white figure.

Medic stood at the control point, a lopsided smile on his face. His right arm was bandaged from shoulder to finger, but he looked otherwise unharmed. He had a tiny mirror on a rope around his neck, which was what blinded me at first.

Strangely, he was glowing, until I realized his medi-pack, rather than generating blue mist, was creating a shining, white light that flowed out all around him.

All he needed now was a pair of feathered wings and a halo.

Medic strode over purposefully. I stood, along with pyro and scout.

Pyro laughed and hugged medic, and then he backed away quickly. Medic smiled again, and then his face became somber. "Vell, I did expect to make it back, but zhe gods haff decided to make me lucky today, nien?"

"Doc, where da hell have you been?!" scout cried, not-so-quietly.

Medic smiled. "My apologies for all the secrecy. But the time for zhe secrets haff passed." He hesitated, and I saw indecision course across his features. "Vell, you by know have realized zat zhe people don't vant ozhers to know zhat zhey cannot go home." He coughed. "Vell, zhe trains do not go back, vhich my predecessor thought they vould."

"Wait, how do you know we read the journal?" I asked.

Medic tapped the side of his head. "I know a lot of things."

Medic is probably an omnipotent being. Maybe an angel. (AN: DeviantArt people, you are amazing.)

Medic mock bowed and whispered, almost too quietly to hear, "Zhere are a lot of things people don't know, jawholl?"

"Well? We 'ave plenty of time," I growled. "Explain. Now."

Medic looked like he wished he hadn't said he was going to talk. But he did, so it was too late. "Well? I've listened to you, docteur, so please explain." I folded my arms and sat down, glaring at medic. Perhaps a tad harsh, but I was at the end of my fuse.

Medic was still infuriatingly silent. Pyro, not sure what was going on, left, and scout tapped his bat against the ground in a rhythmic pattern.

Medic sighed and said, "Let's go to the med bay."

I nodded assent and we went, me still giving medic the evil eye.

If you'd seen my eye, you'd agree it was the evil eye. My orbs were tinged with red veins from lack of sleep and worry. They also kept twitching in my sockets.

Medic sat down heavily in his swivel chair, and let out a sigh. He grabbed the nearest thing on his desk, which was a cigarette I left there earlier, and without realizing what it was, placed it in his mouth. Then he spat it out and spent three minutes swearing in German.

I sat down heavily on a bed and scout did likewise. We both stared at medic expectantly. I saw him shift uncomfortably under our laser gaze, and felt some satisfaction at causing him discomfort. Medic finally spoke.

"I came here two years ago. I discovered zhe notebook a month before you came," he said, gesturing towards me. "I was amazed, and I used little hints in zhem to piece it all together. What it basically is, a very, very simple plot. To put it simply, they hire men, keep zhem here, and zhey cannot leave. So simple, yet so sinister, since it means ve vill all die here, avay." Medic frowned, and then said, "Soldier may vell like it though."

"Ausgezeichnet," medic muttered, as he brushed ash off his lab coat.

"Go on," I prompted.

Medic wrung his hands nervously. "So, ve have spent ages trying to find vays out. It took four generations of men to do so. No maps, ve are trapped, ze trains are autopilot and don't go anyvhere. All ze maps are valled in and zhere is no apparent vay out. Zis place is on no known maps, ja? However, zhere is something even worse zhan zis, apparently."

Medic ran a hand through his silvery hair (His hair is multi-colored. Brown, golden, black, silver, white, etc. Weird.) "I think…uh…I think Blutarch and Redmond are dead."

I lit a cigarette distractedly. "Dead? So who's paying us?"

"Saxton Hale, I believe," medic murmured sardonically. "The most insane Australian man I've ever seen."

"Isn't snipes Australian?" scout barged in. "Right?"

Medic shrugged, and his shoulders rolled back significantly. "He sounds British, but I am fairly certain he is of kangaroo-er-Australian descent."

"Kangaroo?" I said incredulously.

"Never mind zhat. Now you recall I once said I found I vhile looking for a ring."

I cut in. "What was the ring for?" A smile crept across my lips.

Scout grinned, warming to the theme. "An engagement ring, doc?"

"Are you married? You are a little young, but just a bit older than scout, yeah?" I teased.

Medic's face was red, from embarrassment or anger I could not tell. "Shut up. I…I vas just looking for a ring."

"A present from your girl?" scout chirped, rubbing his hands together.

A smirked. "From your wife?"

Medic let out a yell of outrage. "Do you vant to hear zhe story or not?!"

"Fine, fine!" scout and I said at the same time.

Medic let out an exasperated noise and continued the thread of his story. "So, ze computer showed meetings, conferences, and even held zhe data for old videos. It is a razher recent technology, so it vas difficult to get much information out of it."

"Yes, it was difficult. Go on."

"I found a vay out, ja? However, zhere vas a problem. Aside from ze fact zhat zhe higher ups became avare of my vork, zhere is also a bigger deal. Something is threatening Mann Co, and I honestly do not know vhat. I think it has something to do vith zhe robots."

I still didn't quite believe medic's robot tale, but said nothing.

Scout frowned. "Well, Mann Co. whatever. You can get us outta here?"

Medic looked genuinely surprised. "You actually vant to leave?"

"Why the hell would I not?"

Medic shook his head. "Zhe ozhers have mostly gone past critical. Zhey have been here too long. Even those who are relatively new vill be reluctant to leave. Pyro, engie…zhe others."

Scout blinked. "You've seen pyro without his mask?"

"I never said zhat."

"Have you?"

"Jawholl."

"What's he like?"

Medic was silent, and then he cleared his throat. "That is not important. Zhe point is, something huge is happening here, far beyond our control."

Scout looked apprehensive, but medic seemed to become excited about something.

"Zhat is the true glory of my plan. Zhey are far too distracted to pay zhat much attention to me, nien? Zhe red spy is their main guard, but zhey no longer send men to tale me and people to steal mein belongings."

I still wasn't clear. "So what is your brilliant plan?"

"My inspiration vas from the assassination in 1914, during ze vorld var."

"Da hell does that have to so with excapin'?"

Medic smirked. "See, ve have to kill zhe red spy. I have spent ze last three days vatching over zhe reds and checking on records. Every generation, since the first medic became suspicious, a red spy vas hired to keep tabs on us."

Scout turned to look behind him, as though expecting a spy to burst out of nowhere. "If he could be anywhere…should we really be out here?"

Medic began pacing. "Ve do not have to vorry."

"Why?" I asked.

"Zhe red spy has been called to report to the higher ups, whoever they are now. He vill not be back for at least an hour. He may report I am missing, but zhey know nothing of this. Ve must get rid of the red spy, seeing as he is their eye."

"Sounds great, but 'ow would we actually do that?" I lit another cigarette. "We cannot get into the red base at night. It is sealed, and the red engineer has a habit of leaving sentries up through the night."

Medic nodded. "You recall my inventions and devices?"

"The ones you made while you were insane?" scout ventured.

Medic frowned. "I vasn't insane. Just…strained. Now at any rate, there are a variety of devices. Spy has a disguise kit and cloak vatch, but he cannot get past the grate. I have a device that vill make everything register spy as a red, ja?"

Medic ran past us into the building, and we followed close behind. Soon we were in the med bay and he was rooting through one of the previously locked drawers. He came up with a disguise kit.

"What is so remarkable about that?" I asked skeptically.

Medic pressed the button and the disguise fog surrounded him. A moment later, there stood the red scout, except he did not have the mask on, and we weren't seeing him as medic, we saw him as the red scout. He also double-jumped around the bay…spoke like the scout, and ran just as fast. He grinned.

"C'mon outside, and I'll show you what else it does."

Medic ran towards the red base, where a level-three sentry stood inside of the door grate. The sentry didn't even beep. Medic double-jumped until he stood on the sentry. He held up a scattergun. Technically, it should have been the syringe gun, but he fired at the turret, and it was normal scattergun bullets. He also didn't undisguised.

The sentry exploded, and medic cloaked. Where did he get a cloaking watch?

The red engineer came out after a moment. He scratched his head. "Now I'll be damned. It wasn't sapped." He swiveled his head to look around, but scout and I had hidden behind a hay bale. "Maybe it just malfunctioned."

Medic reappeared behind the red engie. "Hey, hardhat!"

Engineer turned to him suspiciously. "You seen anyone about?"

Medic shook his head and produced a can of BONK! From nowhere. He rolled it in his palm and tossed it aside. "Nu-uh, hardhat. What happened to your sentry?"

"Some mean son of a gun blew it up. Might've been sapper, but I think someone shot it."

"Aw, damn. That sucks." Medic left, and cloaked once red engineer turned around.

He reappeared and lead us back to base, while the real red scout talked confusedly to the red engineer.

Medic smiled. "How vas it?"

"You shoulda drank the BONK! to make it more real," scout said.

Medic shrugged. "Can I see a can of it?"

Scout took one from his bag and handed it to medic. Medic looked over its ingredients.

"MEIN GOTT!" he yelled. "You drink zhis?!"

"Uh, yeah, what's wrong wit' it?"

Medic held the can at arm length. "Radioactivity, lead capsules, molecules of…ugh. I am surprised you are not dead!"

Scout looked worried, and then produced a different can. The main difference was that the red on this can was a very light red. "This one is for out of combat."

Medic checked that ingredients, still holding the original can like poison. "Zhis vone is like normal soda…vith about three times the sugar content." Medic grimaced. "Vhat a nasty choice in ingested materials you have."

Scout took the BONK! and drank it in a few gulps. "Yeah, well if I die, make sure ya revive me, 'kay?"

Medic muttered something in German, and then growled, "I am not a God, you know."

Scout sat down. "So we gotta whack the red guy?"

"Uh…jawholl, in zhe layman's terms, ja."

I pulled out my cigarette and looked around for an ashtray. Obviously, medic a devout anti-smoker, wouldn't have an ashtray within a mile of him. Medic saw me searching, though, and said, "I'll take that, Herr spy."

I foolishly handed it to him. The next thing I knew, he'd pressed it against my tie and set it on fire. "MON DIEUX!" I patted my tie out rapidly with my hands. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"

Medic tossed the now-out cigarette into a trash can. "For smoking."

"You…."

Medic clamped a hand over my mouth and smiled. The smile did not reach his eyes. "Problem?"

"Non…."

Medic stepped back and I breathed out. "Now, Herr spy, you must _kill_ the red spy. Tonight. It may be cliché, but night really is ze best time for zhis."

I frowned. "So…I will use the special kit?" As an afterthought I added, "Can I keep it?"

Medic laughed, a cackling noise that disturbed me somehow.

"Nien, Herr spy. Vhen ve are out of here, I vill be gone, along vith all my experiments."

"Hey, uh, assuming this plan of yours works, docteur," I muttered. "I 'ave no money."

Medic went through his desk again and came out with a small box full of large American bills.

"How do you have so much money? And also…I live in France."

Scout smiled. "I don't got a home to go back to…but that money will be hella useful. Can I has it, doc?"

Medic lugged the lot towards him, and then turned to me. "I have certain methods of obtaining money. I vill be able to give you zhe payment in zhe future."

I stared at medic again he was springing plans out of the blue. Finally I decided to accept it. Money, escape, and all.

"Fine. Tonight it is."

Medic nodded, apparently satisfied. "Excellent. I vill lend you zhe gear you need."

Medic began tossing objects at me rapidly.

"Modified disguise kit…Metal-Stabber…disguise gloves…."

"Wait!" I said. "What's the metal-stabber and disguise gloves?" The two items looked just like my butterfly knife and gloves.

Medic laughed. "Zhe Metal-stabber has a magnet device in it zhat short-circuits machinery. Zhe engineer vill not be able to stop it, since it is not a sapper. It destroys part of the sentry's internal bindings, making it useless, ja?"

"And the disguise gloves?"

"Ah, zhey let you stab people and remain disguised."

"I thought the kit does that."

"Nien. Earlier, I vas vearing a pair of zem."

I frowned, not recalling it, but I said nothing.

Medic pressed the items into my hands. "Get ready, Herr spy."

Scout couldn't keep his mouth shut any longer. "Well, what am I supposed to do?"

Medic blinked owlishly. "Ah…nothing."

"Whaddya mean, 'nothing'?!" scout said, outraged. "I gotta do something!"

Medic got out a syringe and scout glared at him. "Vell, zhere is something you can do, but I vill have to see something first."

"Yeah?"

"Hold out your arm, please."

Scout raised an eyebrow and held out his arm. Before he could so much as shout, medic had jabbed the syringe into his arm. Scout's eyes rolled up in his head, and he slumped, asleep.

"Docteur," I sighed. "You are so very strange."

Medic held up another needle. "Care to help me test zhis? Two guinea pigs are better than one."

"TEST?"

"Ja, it vas a kind of material that theoretically disperses after putting the victim to sleep, making it undetectable. Care to test it out?"

"Non! And if scout doesn't wake up, I'll send you to 'ell!"

"So brutish, Herr Spy, so brutish."

"Be quiet."

Once back in my room, I set down all the gear and familiarized myself with their workings. Medic had drawn a skull on one of the cigarettes in the disguise case, but they were real cigarettes. I heard that a couple generations back, you disguised by selecting a cigarette.

There was a knocking on my room door, but when I opened it, there was nobody there. Then I saw a piece of paper taped to the door's exterior. It had a crude drawing of a spy's head with a mouth full of cigarettes. Literally. It was crammed with cigarettes. Written in that neat yet messy scrawl was _Cancer Sticks used since your arrival. Estimated years left of your life: 0.00000000001 years._

I tore up the paper and threw it into the hall. "I smoke, and that's none of your business," I muttered to myself.

A voice echoed down the hall. "I have a special sense of humor, nien?"

I could tell medic was just around a bend. "Shut up, docteur."

When it was nine at night, medic entered my room. "Are you ready?"

"Oui," I grumbled. "Now send me out before I lose my nerve and run."

Medic nodded. "As you vish. Go out zhere before you lose your nerve."

"That's not exactly what I was thinking," I mumbled. "Maybe a pep talk."

Medic appeared to consider it for a moment, scratching at some faint stubble on his chin. "Ja…ja…a pep talk. Okay. Get out zhere and kill zhe red spy or I vill remove your eyes."

"You are the worst at pep talks," I hissed. "Don't ever lead a cheerleader team. You'll scare the team into losing." I left, leaving medic to ponder my words.

Crossing the field was no problem. After all, it wasn't like there were stray stickybombs to step on. As it turned out, there were a couple of forgotten stickybombs sitting everywhere. I nearly stepped on one. I crept past the hay bales and pigs, stepping lightly. Once I was halfway across the field, I began hugging the shadows, staying out of view. I took out the disguise kit and saw a button with a mask for something odd. A purple spy. Ignoring it, deciding medic put it as a joke, I set myself to disguise as the red soldier and went towards the gate, praying medic was as right as he claimed. He was. The grate slid upwards with a slight creak, and then I was in the red complex.

The bases were identical, just reversed, so I found the spy's room rather quickly. When I neared his door, I saw that the light was still on. I stood outside, cloaked, straining my ears to listen.

"…kill him." That was the red spy's voice.

The next voice was almost mechanical. Someone was talking through a speaker. "Make sure he does not get away. We do not have time to turn our attention to the matter. We leave it to you to remove him. In general, we would not use such extreme measures, but the man is not afraid of _anything_. He is also a medical genius. When we burned his face, he healed it with a few crushed plants and spit!"

"No way," the red spy growled. "That's impossible. That badly scorched skin cannot heal like that."

"Way, spy. We nearly lopped off his head. God help me if I know how he survived that."

"You have got to be kidding, monsieur."

"No, I do not kid. Make sure you kill him. Try not to alert the blues. When you're done, contact us and we will begin searching for a replacement. One that is more like the traditional medics. By the way, have you yet uncovered how the past medics are passing information to the new ones? We have to destroy that information."

Red spy laughed, a grating, evil cackle. "I've not yet known someone who won't answer a question under pain of death!" He paused, and then sneered. "I'll drag the information from his dying body if I must."

"Try to kill him after that. Now get some sleep. You'll need it if you want to assassinate him."

The way they were talking left me in no doubt that the intended target was medic. I dared not move as I heard Red walk around the room. Then I heard him adjusting his bed, and then settling down for sleep. I cursed mentally. People can take a while to settle down, and with him brooding over the meeting, he'd not be fully asleep for maybe an hour.

I wasn't going to stand there all night, so I crept in through the door, since it was partially open. The red spy lay in his bed, eyes half-open. I could tell since the faintest gleam of light escaped the gap in his eyelids.

At that moment, part of the floor I stepped on creaked.

The red spy bolted upright with a cry of alarm. I felt a smile tug at my mouth as I observed his paranoia. In general, it was not uncommon to hear a floorboard creak. Red got up and began fumbling for the light switch. He was in his suit, I noticed. His butterfly knife's handle jutted out of his sleeve. I remembered how he'd snagged my watch sometime back. Perhaps I could pick his pocket, or sleeve, too.

I tiptoed over to Red, who finally managed the get the light switch. I yanked the knife away, and miraculously, he did not feel it. His hands pulled a Diamondback revolver from his suit's inside pocket. Now that I was closer, I saw that his eyes were bloodshot and glazed.

I went back outside, leaving the red spy to stare at nothing. Outside, I disguised as the red medic. Oddly enough, I was in nightclothes. Medic really thought of everything.

I went back inside, now disguised. "Herr spy? What was zhat noise?"

"I-I heard a floorboard creek."

I put on an irritated look. "Zhe floorboards are creaky. You know zat."

Red nodded, slowly setting his gun on the table. "Je suis desole."

"Good," I hissed in mock anger. "Now go to sleep and stop trying to vake everyvone else up."

Red hit the light switch as I stocked out. Now, I grabbed my revolver and crept back in. I held the gun behind my back. "Herr spy?"

Red spy sat up to look at me. I had one shot. If I missed, it was over. "What, docteur?"

"Make sure you come tomorrow morning, alright?"

"Why?" Red's eyes darted towards the hand that held the gun. "What 'ave you got behind your back?"

"Sleep aids. Permanent ones," I said, whipping out the revolver. I fired twice, in rapid succession. One would have been sufficient. Both bullets struck the same spot in his forehead, one pushing the other one deeper into Red's skull. Red's mouth hung open, and his face was one of shock. A moment later, he fell backwards, blood streaming from the hole in his head.

That gunshot was sure to wake someone, and indeed, a minute later, as I was cloaked and ready to leave, there were rapid footsteps and shouts throughout the building. I was nearly out when the red engineer slammed into me as he barreled past. At first I thought he hadn't noticed me, but then he realized he'd bumped into something solid. He whirled, shotgun out. He began to fire, and if any one of his bullets struck me, I'd be revealed.

I dodged and ran out of the base, not caring that my cloak was now undone. Bullets whined through the air around me, and one scraped my cheek. At the far side of the field was blue soldier, who for whatever reason seemed to realize I was desperate and was firing rockets past me. "GET IN HERE, SPOOK! RUN, SOLDIER, RUN!"

I dashed past him, and he ran back in, letting the grate slam shut. "Now go find doc. He wants a word with you."

I wondered what medic had told soldier to make him so compliant. Deciding to waste no more time, I hurried to medic, finding him reading a large book.

"Good job," he said without looking up.

I had long since accepted that medic just seemed to know things, even though the computer had been blown up. "Merci. He is dead now."

"Excellent. Now ve put zhe plan in action. Go to sleep now, I will ensure that the higher-ups aren't avare Red is dead until it's time for our move."

Always lacking information, I headed ton bed with a sigh. As I dropped off to sleep, and my eyes shut, it occurred to me that medic must be about my age.

Morning blew in softly, the sun slowly rising. I was up long before sunrise, at about four in the morning. This wasn't my choice. Medic had come in and jabbed my arm with an adrenaline shot. I was now tapping my foot impatiently, glaring at medic, who was slowly going through some maps of the bases.

"It's really quite simple, Herr Spy. Tomorrow, we leave, and you must be packed by then. Here is the plan. I have said before zhat zhe train doesn't go back, ja?"

I nodded, unsure of where he was going with this.

"So we don't take the company train. I have, with some difficulty, found a warehouse. In zhat varehous are vehicles, and of course, maps. I may vell have left already, but I needed to compare maps and I couldn't left you behind. Zhe vehicles in question are new, functional, and fueled. I sink zhey are stock vans made for some ozher company."

"So we drive off?"

Medic nodded, showing his teeth like a wolf. "Jawholl. We get some food supplies, and I must get back account vecords, and ve are free!"

"That sounds so easy," I admitted. "So why am I worried?"

Medic sighed. "True, ve may vell be stopped, vhich is vhy time is of essence. I'd have run off already, but I must vait for you." For a moment he seemed defeated, and then he spoke in a somewhat sad voice, "I vonder if zhe ozhers can be taken?"

"Like who?' I inquired.

"Pyro? You and scout, yes, but maybe soldier, or demo."

I considered it. Before I could voice any ideas though, medic objected to his own idea.

"Nien. It must be kept minimal. I do, however, think engineer and pyro should be informed."

"What?" I frowned. "Why them?"

"Pyro is harmless enough, and nobody can understand him."

"True," I conceded. "But engineer?"

Medic seemed reluctant to answer. "I am not a mechanic, Herr Spy."

I laughed darkly. "I was beginning to think you were an omnipotent dark angel or something. There seemed to be nothing you couldn't do or survive."

With a groan of exhaustion, medic set aside his papers. "Tomorrow, spy. Be ready."

I was ready the next day. I was almost sad to go, since I was becoming used to being surrounded by the blue team. I one again thought ruefully that medic was so abrupt. He had sprung this escape plan out of the blue.

Medic had us meet in the kitchen at five in the morning. Scout, pyro, and engineer where there, along with medic himself.

Medic nodded to me. "Pyro and engineer vill be joining us."

"Very well. Hello, pyro, engie."

The two dipped their heads in return, and then turned back to medic.

"So, ve have a quick march. I vould use sniper's van, but, ah, he is not in on zhe plan. At a slow valk, it is about twenty minutes or twenty-five."

"Where is the darn place?" engineer asked.

Medic held up a map. "I vill lead you, but zhere is a map here. Vonce ve are in zhe vans, ve vill go to the nearest town. By zhe vay. Ve are in America."

I blinked. "Wait! I was picked up in France!"

Medic shook his head. "I cannot explain how it vas done. I do not know. All I ask is zhat you trust and follow me."

Scout was about to pop the tab from a can of BONK! when medic gave him the evil-eye. "Drinking more radioactive slop, Herr Scout?" Scout stopped hurriedly.

"Now," medic said pleasantly. "Names."

"nmmmh?" pyro asked.

"Jawholl. I am Ken Nachtwanderer."

Engineer shrugged. "Guess I'll go too. Michael Harrison."

Pyro lifted his mask, after releasing the metal safety catch. "*cough* Miguel Mirano."

Everyone turned to me. I wasn't ready to say my name, not when I'd neglected it for months. At last I spoke. "Ah…I am Eustace Glacons."

Now all eyes were on scout. Scout gave a shrug. "Dean Meyer."

"What a perfectly ordinary name," I said. "Contrary to yourself."

Scout glared daggers at me while medic crossed his arms, looking satisfied. "Wunderbar. Let us go now. I assume you have all packed?"

Nods all around. I wondered what pyro would pack. Pillows? Unicorns? Incendiary devices that can send an entire city to kingdom come?

Medic was leaving now, and we all went to our rooms to grab our belongings. I had a single suitcase. This whole business was so strange to me. I was running away from the organization I joined less than a year ago. Yet, with all the recent events, I could hardly stay here.

Soon we were all gathered outside, and I saw pyro held a large duffel bag. What was in there? Engineer had a toolbox and a leather bag. He set the bag down and gestured towards his toolbox. "Ah've got mah tools. Ah can take a look at the vans. Make sure there's nothing wrong with them."

Medic rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Good. Let us move. Be must be out of zhe base in a minute or two."

We ran towards the border. There was nobody up, but we still felt that sense of urgency, since we were attempting to escape a powerful organization that had conned men into working for them for decades. We were a strange group, trailing after medic with our various belongings. I opened my mouth to ask medic exactly how far the structure was when there was a loud noise._  
_

_BANG!_

Medic sagged sideways. A bullet had gone through his head.

AN: O_O


	11. Chapter 11: Gone with the Robots

Have you ever watched someone die? Just leave this world right in front of you? It is something strange. Really, you don't _feel_ anything at first. You just sort of watch the person die.

Medic collapsed. There was now a gaping red hole in the side of his head. His expression was one of mild surprise. The horrible wound leaked dark red blood, the liquid spilling into medic's multi-colored hair. The red mingled with gold, black, and silver. I simply stared as the fluid splashed out of the horrible wound, covering the ground around medic's head in dark red. The man was dead. The man who had proved himself nigh upon immortal lay, his lifeblood leaking out through a hole in his skull.

Pyro was not quite as stunned as I was. Rather than look at medic's body, he was pointing frantically at the entrance to the red base. I twisted my head to stare sullenly, but what I saw set off alarms in my head. A sniper stood in front of the grate, but his uniform was purple. PURPLE! Behind him stood what looked like a sniper robot. Was that what medic had been babbling about?

I noticed that the robot sniper was trying to aim at pyro, but pyro launched a flare at the machine. It struck dead-on, and a moment later the robot lay on the ground, internal workings melted. The purple sniper took the opportunity to flee, dropping his rifle in his haste.

Pyro fired a couple of flares just ahead of the sniper, but the man put on a burst of speed and made it past the projectiles. I still felt oddly numb, as though my mind was still somewhere between processing medic's death and not accepting it.

Engineer was dragging me and scout away from medic's body. Scout was yelling something to him, and it took a moment for my brain to start working again.

"We can't just leave him here!"

"Boy, we have got to get outta here. You know that we're up against a major corporation…thingy. We're as good as dead if we hang around."

"But-but we can't just leave his freaking body here!" scout cried.

I bent down by medic's corpse, staring at the glassy blue eyes, no longer icy cold in death. I stood up, managing to not make my voice shake when I spoke. "Let's go. I really don't think docteur wants us to stand around."

We all ran for our lives now, seeing how the nearly unkillable doctor lay there. Scout pulled ahead rapidly, but he screeched to a stop when we reached the fence gate. A robot of sorts stood in front of it, holding a bat. "Why don't you come closer, tough guy?" it said. The machine's voice was remarkably like scout's, except much more metallic.

Scout whipped out his own bat but engineer grabbed his hand. "Boy, shoot it, don't whack it! That robot arm swinging that there bat is gonna hurt!"

Pyro wasn't going to wait. He charged forward with his flamethrower in hand and began scorching the robot's chest. A moment later it collapsed, the steel around it twisted and broken. "Fire…fire…fiiiirrrrrre…."

Scout shoved the burning metal aside and we all ran out the fence gate. It occurred to me how it was that whenever there was a small fence, none of us seemed to be able to get over it. (AN: Is that not so? Fences! AGH!) Once we were out, engineer whipped out the map pyro had retrieved. I was left holding medic's briefcase. Engineer examined the map and then glanced up at the sun. "East. So straight ahead."

The marching took half an hour, and it was rather slow since scout kept complaining about how much he was carrying. I could tell all of us were harboring thoughts about medic, but we were locking them away in our heads for now. Pyro kept glancing over his shoulder as though expecting someone to jump out from behind a cactus. Cactus? Yes. Even though we were situated on a farm, the surrounding area was sort of a wasteland desert. The sun beat down on us, and I marveled at how it had actually been cold at the farm. There was no trace of that chill now.

It wasn't long before we came up in front of a large warehouse. Engineer began looking through medic's notes until he got a picture that matched. "This Is our place, boys." We looked at the massive doors. The massive, locked doors.

Scout frowned. "Medic would've known how to open it."

Everyone froze the moment scout said medic, and he realized he'd said something _very_ awkward. That boy is about as tactful as an elephant with sinus problems. Wait, wot?

Engineer took out his wrench and examined it. The doors were large, a few feet well over our heads. A padlock secured the handles. Engineer turned to me. "You're the spah. Can you pick this?"

I shrugged and examined the lock. "It's…ah, possible." I grabbed my butterfly knife and inserted the blade. I felt a gear inside the lock and twisted the blade slightly. I pulled out my knife then and squinted into the lock. I then used the tip of my knife to depress a thin switch in the padlock, and it sprang open instantly. Scout whistled. "Nice work, spook."

"Merci." We dragged the doors open with some effort, and then we all stopped dead. Inside was several new, grey vans. What was most important was the army of robots standing around the vans. They were of various classes, and there were eighteen in all, two of each class.

Engineer muttered a curse as we looked upon the machines. What the hell were these machines? And who was sending them to us?

There was a moment in which we stared at each other silently, and then the robot heavy (It had its fists out) let out a metallic roar and charged, soon followed by the others.

"KILL THEM ALL!"

"LET'S WASTE EM'!"

"Mach schnell, raus, RAUS!"

All signature quotes. All spoken by evil robots trying to tear us limb from limb. Are you scared? I'm scared.

The heavy robot was not that difficult to take down. I say this because it tripped over a scratched tile on the floor and collided with the other heavy. For whatever reason, this activated their fists to punch once. They both destroyed each other's' head. I almost laughed. Until the robot medic appeared in front of me, and my mind flew back to our medic. Or rather, our deceased medic. I began strangling the robot with my bare hands.

It worked, and I snapped the head off. (I scared myself.) I tossed the head at a robot scout, knocking it back a couple feet. A few feet away, engineer whacked the other robot scout with his wrench, then switched to pistol and blew its head off. It was impressive work, but then the spy robot materialized behind him.

I rushed forward, but scout made it there first. "Bonk!" He whacked the robot, causing it's head to spin around 180 degrees to face scout. "Woah, what?"

The spy robot collapsed, but a pyro machine stepped up and set him on fire. "Gah! Fire! Fire!"

_Now would be an amazing time for medic to burst in._ I glanced at the door, not sure what I was expecting. Considering how he had always seemed unkillable…immortal, I guess I wished that he was going to come in. No such luck. For staring at the door I got a blast from the soldier robot's rocket launcher.

Engineer and scout were doing fine, but pyro made the most difference, in my opinion. His flamethrower melted through the robots, and within minutes, we were done, surrounded by twisted and broken metal corpses.

Pyro stepped on a robot pyro's head, twisting his foot and grinding the metal deliberately.

Pyro is disturbing.

Engineer seemed to be amused. A stupid smile sat on his face. Almost a smirk. I really didn't know why he was happy. Medic was dead, we were on the run from a major corporation that we had been working for a few minutes ago, and scout forgot to pack chips. HOW COULD HE FORGET THE CHIPS?!

Pyro went over and began flaming the air, checking for any invisible enemies. Near the cars his flames caught something. Or rather, someone.

"AGH! FIRE! GET AWAY, YOU INCOHERENT SON OF A BEAVER!"

Pyro stopped to stare at a man who was now visible, flames sitting on every inch of his body. His arms flailed as he tried to beat out the fire. "OWOWOWOW! I come to help you, and zhis is how you repay me? By setting mein body on fire?!"

I froze. Medic? I stepped forward cautiously and squinted at the flames. The man splashed water from a canteen by his side and put himself out. I shook my head, disappointed with myself. Medic is not a God. Nobody can survive a headshot.

The man who appeared was a medic, or so it seemed. He was red team. On his right arm a cloaking watch was clamped to his wrist. He looked uncomfortable, as though he did not want to be there.

"Who da hell are you?" scout asked, bluntly.

The medic frowned. "I…I am from zhe red team. I vish to come vith you."

I blinked. "Did the reds 'ave access to that journal too?"

The red medic smirked. "Zhe second medic in zhat line vas red. Zhe blue vone vas first, but he entrusted it to a red in zhe end. Ve are part of it."

"I thought you have been ignoring it for generations of combat!" I protested. "Now you leap in and act like a 'ero, when you reds 'ave been doing nothing to help for decades!"

The red medic's eyes flared. "Nothing? You think ve have been idle? Ja, only zhe second medic and myself got zhe journal, but ve have helped! Did not zhe blue medic inform you of my contributions?"

I glared at him. "What contributions?"

The medic looked nervous. "Uh…see, I didn't really help all zhat much."

Engineer snorted. "Doc didn't tell me much about that journal, but from what I here, you reds stayed outta it fer a while."

Red medic shook his head. "Nien. I did help. Who do you zink gave blue medic those maps? Zhey very difficult to obtain, I tell you."

"All fine and dandy," I growled. "But I do not exactly trust you, so bye-bye!"

Red medic looked panicked. "NO! Please, take me vith you! I vill be helpful! I vill do vhat zhe ozher medic has done! I-"

Scout whacked the red medic's shoulder with his bat. "Shut up. You're nothin' like our doc!"

"Why in tarnation are you so desperate to leave anyway?" engineer asked.

Red medic frowned. "Who vants to rot in zhis hellhole? Ve vould sit here and die, growing old, knowing zat zhe only vay out is to jump in front of demo or something."

Engineer frowned, and the red medic began trying to convince engie to take him in.

Meanwhile, scout looked thoughtful (shocker). "Y'know, I guess I would've left soon anyway, if I could've."

"Why?"

"I'm twenty-four! That's kinda old for a scout."

I looked at him critically. He looked about twenty-two or twenty. "You really do not look zat old."

The red medic cut in, his voice surprised, and somewhat sneering. "You vouldn't be zhat age."

I glared at the medic. "What do you mean?"

"The medi-gun slows aging, although its effects stop working after about three years of exposure." The red medic squinted at scout. He seemed somewhat disturbed. "What I do not understand, though, is vhy zhere are energy particles around you at all times. Zhat vould actually stop aging, to some extent." The red medic suddenly let out a faint gasp.

"What's so spooky?" scout growled.

The red medic got out a strange pair of red-lens glasses and squinted at scout. "Zhe rays are still hugging your body."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. Where was the counterpart of our deceased medic going with this?

The red medic ignored me, and watched by us all, began prodding scout's arm and muttering to himself. A moment later he scowled, and muttered, "Impossible." Then he turned to scout. "How old vhere you vhen you joined?"

Taken aback, scout was silent for a moment, and then said, "About twenty or twenty-two."

The red medic scratched his chin. "And now you are…?"

"Why da hell should I tell you?"

Red medic glared at him with eyes very similar to our medic's.

"Fine. Twenty-four, about."

The red medic shook his head. "Anatomically, no."

"Uh…ana-what?"

Red medic began staring at each of us in turn. "Have you ever noticed a faint glow about you in dark places? Not at night, vhen you have been out of combat for hours, but say vhen you are in zhe shadow of a building?"

"What are ya babbling about, doc?" engineer said crossly.

"Your medic…no. Zhat is not possible. Allow me to examine you later and-"

"No," I growled. "Our medic what?"

"He…he stopped your aging," the red medic said helplessly. "I'm sure zhere is anozher explanation. Zhere is no man alive who can do zhat. G-Give me some tools…some time…I can find out vhe energy has apparently stopped your aging."

"I actually wouldn't put it past doc to manage that," engineer said, somewhat amused.

"ZHAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" the red medic screamed. Then he turned red and looked away, embarrassed.

"Well," I mused. "I did think it was odd for medic to not have more mysteries, oui? After all, he removed burn scars completely with, and I quote, 'Herbs and spit'."

The red medic was shaking his head even before I was done. "Nononono. Nien! Novone can stop aging. Zhat is…zhat is some celestial pover, surely!"

Engie had already gotten bored of the conversation and was now examining the vans. I glanced at him, and then back to the red medic. "We'll take you with us, if you stop screaming about how our medic did the impossible."

Scout did not look happy. Pyro didn't seem to care. Actually, I couldn't see his face, but ah well.

Engineer had an unhappy expression that mirrored scout's. "We really need doc for this."

"Huh?" I said blankly.

Engineer elaborated. "All the vans are missing key parts to their engines. Either doc knew one that I guess worked without the part, or they've been tampered with."

"Damn!" scout said. "And we just got this far too."

"Not without medic's help," I murmured softly.

"…"

"True."

"Either way, what do we do? This place is empty except for a desk over yonder and these vans." Engineer took off his helmet and scratched his grey hair. "Ah think we're stuck, boys."

Red medic was gibbering and muttering about energy and telomeres.

"What's a tela-whatever?" scout asked curiously.

Red medic looked at him with an exasperated expression. "Zhey are strands of DNA zhat get shorter vhen zhey replicate."

"Huh?" Scout is fast, but his brain is not.

Red medic rolled his eyes. "Zhey are thing in our body zhat gets shorter as ve age. Vhen zhey are too short to be of use to our body, ve die!"

"What's that gotta do with doc?"

"Do you not see? Zhe medi-rays slow or stop telomere shortening vhile active. You basically stop aging for a few seconds or minutes, depending on how long you are on zhe beam. Even for about an hour or more after, you do not age as fast." Red medic frowned. "But zhe rays are clinging to your cells like glue, constantly pouring energy into DNA replication to prevent telomere shrinking."

Engineer looked up. "Ah see. I studied a bit o' this. But is that really possible?"

Red medic seemed mostly angry that our medic had managed something he hadn't. _But then, our medic has done things no man should have been able to do._ "It is not possible to make zhe energy stay vith you! It has no source."

"Calm down, mon ami," I said. "We must 'elp engineer solve this problem first." I turned t the hard-hatted man. "So, what exactly is wrong again?"

"Missing parts," engineer stated bluntly.

I blinked. "Well…I am at a loss. I would guess that medic dismantled some of them already, to make sure nobody else used them, but here would he have stored the pieces?"

"What makes ya think doc took em?" socut asked.

"Because I don't think he took the pieces, and whenever I think something about medic, I am wrong."

Silence pervaded the room.

"You…are strange," red medic said.

With that cutting statement, pyro and engineer began laughing quietly.

Red medic looked around. "Vhat is so funny?"

"Henh…nothing. You boys mind help me looking for anything for the vans?"

"Uh, sure."

We spread out and began looking under vans, by crates, and in the desk. Everything was barren and empty.

"Damn. There's nothing here!" scout hissed. He banged his fist on the wall. His fist sank in. "Huh?"

Scout, short tempered as he was, had smashed a button. The desk fell apart. We let out a cry of surprise. In a section of the desk was a few cylinders and metal parts. I stared at them, and then turned to engineer. "There are your parts, laborer. 'ave fun."

While engineer began putting the parts and matching them with vans, we sat in a corner and began going through our inventory. Engineer had a toolbox and suitcase. Scout had his bag and a case full of cash. (At this I winced. I realized that medic was no longer there to pay me. I immediately felt guily; I was worrying about his payment when he was dead.) The red medic had brought a medical kit and his own suitcase. Pyro had his strange duffel bag. Myself, my suitcase. Medic's bag sat in one corner. Several times some of us made moves to open it, but we stopped each time, feeling apprehensive and thinking of the dead doctor. Eventually, the red medic couldn't stand the tension and introduced himself.

"Well, ah, since I vill be joining you, I am Fledermaus Rausch."

We nodded and muttered our own names, and then lapsed once more into pensive silence.

Something occurred to me. The drive, wherever it went, would be without water or food. I turned to ask engineer to see him looking devastated. "What is wrong?"

Engineer shook his head and held up the map. It showed the base, structure, and then vast emptiness. "Doc was the only one who knew the right way to go. He must've hid it so anyone who got hold of it wouldn't make sense of it."

"Damn his intelligence," I growled. Unreasonable, true, but oh well.

Red medic broached the subject of food. "Even if ve knew vhere to go, by zhat map zhere is nothing for miles. Food? Water? Ve vould die."

Engineer shook his head in despair. "Damn, why'd he have to go and die on us?! Now, when we need him most!"

On impulse, I walked out of the warehouse to stare at the base. It was just visible over the flat land. Medic's body was there, I knew. As I watched, the sun played tricks on my eyes. The surface of the sandy dirt shimmered and wove in and out of focus. I felt my eyelids shutting and I fought to keep my eyes open. The hypnotic sun defeated me, and I fell asleep where I stood.

_THUD!_

…

…

"Damn, spook. You scared me!"

I opened my eyes to stare up at a bristled chin and familiar sunglasses. "Sniper," I croaked. I felt like there was sand in my throat. "Izzat you?"

Sniper grinned. "The one and only. Might say you had some nerve to leave me and moi knoife behind. Gonna leave me to rot, were you?"

At his words the escape plan snapped back into my head. I sat upright, smacking his chin.

"OW!"

"What happened? Where am I?"

"Calm down, herr spy," a German voice said. I turned and momentarily saw an apparition of medic. Then it faded to be replaced by the red medic. I glanced around. I was in a cot in the warehouse while engineer pored over maps taken from medic's pockets. Scout and pyro stood a ways off, watching me silently.

"Why…is sniper here?"

Sniper laughed. "All of us noticed medic's corpse. A shame. A good man, he was. What was odd was how you were missing. I followed your trail in my van. Can't believe you ran off and left me to rot!"

"How'd you know about all zhis anyvay?" red medic asked suspiciously.

"I eavesdropped on you lot. I just didn't hear when you were off."

I glared at him, and was jolted out of my anger by engineer's own shout of anger. "DAMMIT!"

"Wh-what?" scout asked.

"The map we need is _still on medic!_"

"What? 'ow the 'ell do we get it from him? We are here now!"

Engineer pressed his hands to his face and massaged his eyes. "I saw him reading it, and I guess he stored it in the folds of his lab coat. I doubt pyro bothered rifling through his clothes."

Pyro hung his head and engineer hurried to add to his statement. "We can't have expected pyro to have gone through all of medic's coat pockets. We were in a hurry. It's not your fault." Engie turned to sniper. "Quick, what did they do with the corpse?"

Sniper looked mildly alarmed. "They're taking his corpse to an incinerator."

"We have got to get there. How long do we have?"

Sniper considered it. "Until five in the afternoon. They're burning him five thirty."

"I don't wanna have to run back just cause we missed a map! We got away and now we're stuck! And I don't want to see…." Scout trailed off. Everyone knew what he meant though. Medic's corpse. Nobody wants to see corpses, particularly the one of someone who is now key to your survival.

"Let's take my van," sniper said.

Galvanized into action by the sudden recommendation, we piled into the van and sniper hurtled off. "I don't think you can make the ride in my van. Not that sturdy." I glanced at sniper. His van was moving at an insane speed. If it wasn't sturdy, then this thing was going to fall apart any second now.

**POV CHANGE: Third Person. BLU BASE**

Soldier, demo, and heavy were not amused. The rest of the team was gone. Sniper had been there not long ago, but when he saw medic's corpse, he'd taken off. The others were left deciding to incinerate the poor man's corpse. Soldier even gave up one of his badges to pin on medic's lab coat. Most of them were quite certain the red sniper had hit him, during ceasefire no less! Anger bubbled around them, but interestingly enough, heavy was the figure of common sense.

"I not fear reds, but they too many weak babby man can still run us over."

The blues were wondering about their missing teammates over a breakfast of toast and coffee. Heavy was particularly sad about medic's death, but was soon distracted by thinking up increasingly more violent ways to kill the reds. At one point he forgot why he wanted to kill them, but decided to keep compiling his mental list.

Blue demo was looking at medic's corpse, which was lane carefully on a table. "I cannae believe the laddie's just gone an' died on us."

Soldier sighed. "A good man through and through, even if he did go strange in the end."

"Aye…but that's how they all go, people," demo conceded.

Heavy began biting into his "sandvich." "I think reds are not to blame."

"Huh?!" soldier and demo cried. "Not to blame?"

Soldier slammed his fist onto the table. "If those red bastards didn't shoot doc, who did?!"

Heavy shrugged. "I saw metal men."

"Huh? Like mercenaries? Like us?" Soldier asked. Metal men were the rarely-used nicknames for certain mercenaries.

"No. Like robot," heavy said.

Demo frowned. "I heard the lads talkin' about machines and like, but I ne'er made sense of it."

Soldier crossed his arms and put his feet on the table. "I think it's the red commies."

Heavy shook his head. "I saw robot sniper man. He broken. I think pyro got him."

"Pyro? He's missing," demo said absentmindedly.

Heavy nodded and ate the rest of his sandwich. "Robots hanging around sometimes. Hide when we turn to look. You not see any? Some go around when we fight, watching us but not moving. Da! I see many walk around edge by fence, but they not fight us."

Demo frowned. "Heavy, now that ya' mention it, I think yae have a point. I did sae some grey buggers around. Ne'er thought anything of it, though."

Soldier stormed over to the kitchen window and stared out. He was about to say that there was no robots when he saw a grey mass dash over the border and skid to the stop in front of the kitchen window. Soldier's breath caught as he stared into the blue eyes of a robot scout. Silence stretched in which heavy and demo said nothing. Then there was a whirring noise as the robots arm drew back.

…

It's mechanical hand smashed through the glass with a massive crashing noise. Soldier felt cold metal fingers close around his neck…squeezing…crushing…killing him….

Then it was gone, replaced by the sound of glass breaking on metal. He looked over to see demo had thrown his scrumpy on the robot, splashing the foul concoction into the machine's eyes. It sparked, and then collapsed in a heap, jittering and muttering. A moment later its computer memory crashed and it was still.

Soldier rubbed his sore neck and stared hollowly at the robot. "God damn. Think they're after the doc's body?"

Heavy frowned. "I think they want kill doctor. Now he dead they want body."

"That does seem about right," soldier muttered. But, he thought, what to do about it? Soldier did not like thinking. It gave him headaches. So he decided to do what was simplest. "GAH! I am not paid to think! Let's just burn the body now, instead of at five! That should keep them off our backs!"

Heavy and demo nodded. Some miles off, in a beat-up van, some blue team members and a red medic were unaware that the corpse was to be burned early. As far as they knew, they had hours and hours. A shame that none of them was a psychic.

**POV CHANGE: BACK TO SPY SNIPER'S CRAPPY VAN (Sniper: Hey! It is not crappy! It's awesome! A vintage model!)**

They had slowed to a cruise, and had now sent half an hour in the van. They were already at the gate, and disembarked without too much urgency. The first thing they noticed when they looked at the blue quarters was the smashed window. And the robot below it. The broken, scrumpy-covered robot.

Spurred onwards by a mysterious sense of urgency, the others were about to run in when red medic cried, "NEIN!"

"Huh?" everyone ground to a stop.

Red medic was straining to hear something. "Do you hear machinery?"

There was, now that everyone stopped moving, the faint noise of metal grinding. Sniper's eyes widened. "BLOODY HELL!"

Engineer looked taken aback at sniper's outburst. "What's wrong, pardner?"

"There's a conveyer belt that carries the body to the incinerator room!"

"…" -Me

"…" -Scout

"…" -Engineer

"…" –Pyro

"…" –Sniper

"WHAT ARE YOU VAITING FOR? GO SAVE YOUR KAMERAD'S CORPSE!...Zhat sounded veird." –Red Medic

We all ran in, but scout tore ahead of us. Down one of the hallways was a door nobody liked to go through. A tiny wooden door that lead to a room where corpses could be fed into a conveyer belt, sealed in a room, and incinerated.

Medic, whether or not we wanted to see his corpse, was not going to be buried. When I first got here I wondered about why bodies were burned. The practice was common, but mostly in Asia. Here, burying was more customary. Now I saw. A corpse could be incriminating. Families may be told that their mercenary died and was cremated, but nothing on them could be evidence.

Now we burst into the room to see medic's black boots vanish into the conveyor slot.

Scout lunged forward, knocking aside a very surprised soldier and grabbed the boots. However, the belt already latched onto medic's clothes with metal spikes on the side of the chute, and medic was torn from scout. "Damn-!"

Soldier pulled scout back. "Where the devil did you spring from, boy? And why the hell do you want' medic's boots?!"

Scout let out a strangled scream and I peered into the wall chute. The belt curved downwards and the body was no doubt near the incendiary room by now. I dashed to a small window that viewed the incinerator room. Or rather, a camera, placed well above in a tunnel beyond the room, viewing. Medic's corpse slid into the room, our the chute. It landed on the metal floor, and his bloodied lab coat was splayed out beneath his prone form. The tubes on the wall would release burning gases that would reduce medic's body to nothing.

"Incineration begins in ten seconds," a recorded, mechanical voice barked.

We all stared in horror as the tubes began to glow.

"Ten…nine…eight…."

"We are dead," scout whispered, wide-eyed.

"…four…three…two…one…."

"Damn."

"…zero. Initiating incineration."

We held our breaths, waiting for the inevitable flames that would engulf medic's body and turn him to ash. The inevitable flames that…didn't come.

"Warning. Ignition chamber breach. Please contact Mann Co. for a repair crew. Do not touch the body. Leave it there to be disposed of."

The cold, callous way the body was referred to sparked anger in all of us, but we were amazed. By some sheer miracle, medic's body had been saved. I turned quickly to soldier. "Soldier! I do not have time to explain, but do you know of a way into the chamber?"

Soldier looked confused, but then said, "Yes, actually, there is. A door over here." Soldier pointed towards an almost unnoticeable door that was painted the same color as the surrounding wall. A sign on it said, "DO NOT ENTER."

"Well, I 'ave not listened to rules before." I yanked open the door and ran down the resulting staircase. The metal creaked under my feet, evidently old and worn. Behind me, I heard the others following.

Down in the chamber, which had a burnt, iron smell, I reached medic's body. I turned to avoid looking at his face, pale and solemn as it had in life. I also did not want to look at that awful bullet wound. I unbuttoned medic's lab coat and found the inside pocket. The map was there, with directions written on it. Success!

Engineer arrived with scout. He bent down and muttered in my ear, "Let's get outta her, spah, before soldier tries to follow us."

Now that I was by medic's still body again, I was loathe to leave the man. "We can't just leave him to be burnt to ash." I glanced down, and noticed that medic had no shirt beneath the coat. But there was a small tattoo, not unlike a brand, on his chest. _13_.

Engineer followed my gaze to the number. "Well, what's that? A number?"

I also saw a thin stitch mark that went down the center of medic's chest, but ended at his flat stomach. I smirked. Medic really was a bit on the weaker side, in comparison to our other medics. Rather thin and unmuscled. Engineer took the map from my hands and began scanning it rapidly.

"This is it. Let's go, spah. Now."

We left, scout taking one last sad look at the dead medic. I felt something wrench in my heart with every step I took from medic's corpse. I suppose I shouldn't have come back. However, despite medic's irritating countenance, he was sorely missed when he died. How true it is that you do not appreciate something fully until it is gone!

Turning my head, and straightened my back and followed engineer out of the chamber. I could not swallow past the lump in my throat.

AN: I am tired. Honestly, I did not expect this story to get anywhere past one or two chapters. Is it really that good, to garner any attention at all? I thank you for your continued support, though, and your bearing with my crude writing style.


	12. Chapter 12: I AM OUT OF HERE!

"Vhat vas your medic like?"

Red medic had sat by me in the van while engineer checked over the fuel supply again. I turned to him when he asked me the question.

"Well, he was…" I was hesitant to answer. "Strange."

"Strange?"

I thought back to all the times when medic conducted all those inscrutable activities. "Well, everything he did was sudden and major. Like this escape plan…which he springs on us after vanishing for three days."

Red medic laughed softly. "Quite a character, it vould seem." He scratched his chin. "By zhe vay, do you have anysing to do vith our spy's murder? I vould assume it vas you, alzhouh I have no idea how you made it past zhe security grate. It is locked to blues."

At his words I remembered that I'd never returned medic's tools. I still held them. Now he was never going to get them back. "Ah…." I looked at him warily. "Keep in mind I do not fully trust you. As to your question, I suppose it can't 'urt to say that I kill 'im."

Medic pressed the point. "But how did you get in?"

I shut my mouth and glared at him. He smiled, a thin, somewhat chilly motion that suggested he really wanted to know.

"Come now, spy. I cannot hurt to tell me zhis simple thing!"

"Oh yes it can," engineer said. He'd heard our conversation and was now ushering the others into the van. "I wouldn't want to bring you, but spah says ta', and I trust 'im."

I regretted letting him come along, but said nothing while the others boarded and engineer took the front seat. Sniper sat on the passenger side, face grim. Engineer glanced into the rearview mirror, a rather useless thing, since there was only a tiny square window in the back.

"Well boys, let's drive. Ah'm guessing four hours at a decent pace. We speed up, mebbe three and a half."

"To where?" sniper asked curiously.

Engie laughed. "There's a town not shown on the decoy map. It's an outpost area, and a note written by doc says Mann Co. has a grip on it, but we can break there and then drive on. Ah doubt the people there will report us. Medic says they don't like Mann Co. any more than we do, since the buggers just marched in and grabbed their land.

"We'll have to drive in and rest the night, since it'll already be late afternoon, or mebbe night by the time we drive in."

Nods all around, and then red medic asks an interesting question.

"What then?"

Engineer chuckles. "Well, fella, we're going to wing it."

Red medic snorted. "Very reassuring, Herr Engineer."

Engie shrugged and placed the key in ignition. The engine sputtered to life, and despite the rattling noise, I could feel the power in the engine vibrating through the seats. These vans were far from old and derelict. (*AHEM* Sniper.) The wheels grinded and moments later we were on the open road, sand whipping around the wheels and gusty wind driving brown particles into the windshield.

Red medic's question bounced around in my skull though. Since we were running away, and they had never intended to pay us from the start, I still had no money. Medic _would_ have paid me, but corpses cannot withdraw money. I stared out at the vast, empty landscape while we drove. Sit tight, I thought. Three hours, fifty-eight minutes and twenty-seven seconds to go.

-3 HOURS 41 MINUTES LATER-

Dusty white and its passengers tired, the van rumbled into the town. That is, that was how my mind portrayed it. We were indeed tired, and amazed that there was a town here, in the middle of nowhere. A few people walked the sidewalks in the tiny place, and I noted that all the buildings were made of breathable wood, apparently to ensure it wasn't too airtight. I saw power lines and imagined how far they must reach to drag power towards this small establishment.

"Well, we're here. Let's get out and have a look." Engineer had parked at a hotel. A large neon sign that said, "HOTEL EL DORADO". Interesting name, especially since the receptionist, a brown-haired lady, was wearing gold necklaces around her neck and there were gold bands that jangled on her wrists.

Without looking up, the young woman said in a bored voice, "How many?"

I did a quick headcount. "Six."

She nodded and took note of something on a notepad. She gestured towards a coffee table surrounded by couches. "Have a seat. This is going to take just a minute or two."

"What will take a minute or two?" I asked.

She smiled wryly. "We haven't had customers in literally a year. It'll take me a minute to find the room keys." She stood, and began going through a file cabinet.

Engineer sat down and we followed suit. He leaned in and said in an undertone, "Don't relax quite yet. Until we're off at a larger city, remember we're still on Mann Co. turf."

We murmured words of acknowledgement.

Satisfied, engineer turned back to the receptionist to see that scout had dashed over and begun flirting with her. She ignored him resolutely, and at one point through an eraser she found in one cabinet at him. I snickered, and turned to look about the room. It was a large lobby, and there was dust everywhere. I could tell that even though the floors looked shiny, they were probably done in a hurry when they saw us coming. There were still dusty streaks here and there. A fat dust bunny sat underneath the coffee table. Strangely, it was shaped like a bunny's head.

"Here are your keys. Room 4, 5, and 6."

"Why not assign us 1, 2, and 3? I mean, you don't have anyone here do you?" I asked quizzically.

The woman laughed, a tinkling sound much like glass clinking on glass. "Company policy. When there's nobody here, we're required to make it look like there are occupants. It's also policy for us not to say that, so if anyone asks, you didn't hear it from me." She tossed the three silver-colored keys at scout, who caught them deftly and grinned at her.

"Thanks, babe."

She glared at him and turned away huffily.

We went down a side hallway that had rooms on either side. At least when we entered it was clean. Evidently they still polished the place in case someone did show up. The rooms were simple affairs. Neat bathrooms with showers. In the main room there were two small beds that lay on opposite sides of the room. Near the doorway was a desk and chair. In the middle of the far wall was a window that looked out to a back alley. What was the point of putting a window there?

Engineer and pyro took one room, red medic (I can't think of him as 'medic' yet.) and sniper took another. Scout burst into the remaining room and flopped down on a bed.

"YUUSH! A BED! My back freaking hurts from that ride!"

I grimaced at scout's enthusiasm and I sat down on the bed. The room had a musty odor, reminding me of something ancient. I held medic's suitcase in one hand and set it down on the bed. I had a feeling it didn't contain clothes.

Scout peered at the suitcase. "Let's check out what's inside!"

I was very reluctant to do so. "Scout, it feels…wrong to go through other's belongings, non?"

"He's dead, spook." I saw his face twist as he said it, but then he sighed. "If we ain't gonna open it, it'll stay shut forever cause he's dead."

"You 'ave a point," I said. I flipped the catches on the case and opened it. Might as well do it swiftly as possible to not lose my nerve.

I was right when I thought it wasn't clothes.

There was a bone saw in the case, and piles of documents. I saw that the first one held data about "Jarate Archers", as medic termed them. A robot sniper's face was printed. A second pile of documents had sketches and drawings. Medic apparently had a fondness for art. I saw some syringes, bottles, medical tools, and more scientific things about. There was a magnifying glass, and strangely, a pistol.

I might not have thought much of the pistol, except that it had a small black pack strapped to the handle. It was about the size of a cigarette lighter, and a solitary green light flashed on its surface. I wrenched it off, since it was merely secured with tape, and checked the back. There were four green bars, each a little taller than each other. The word "Connection" was printed below the bars. I overlooked it deciding it was nothing. That was a horrible mistake.

Scout, while I went through the documents, got on the phone for room service. Apparently, this place stayed in business since nobody was collecting building fees, and the emlployees were paid by Mann Co. As scout ordered pasta, I flipped through some papers.

**UBER MEDIC**

_Ubers like a maniac. When encountered, usually has medi-gun charged. Uber-charge is much the same as standard charge. Builds charge on robot by drawing electricity, saving it the need to generate any itself. From what I've seen, tends to heal the more key units, often restricting itself to merely heal the heavys or pyros._

Underneath, a picture of the robot medic was there.

I set the robot papers aside and found a strange legal form.

_MANN CO. Is under the full jurisdiction of SAXTON HALE. (See appendix B for information on ownership. See appendix C for information on SAXTON HALE.) Control of Mann Co. may not be given without authorization of SAXTON HALE. Blutarch and Redmond are deceased, and officially all men and workers associated with the two companies or their ex-leaders are to be working for SAXTON HALE. Salaries, work hours, etc will be decided by SAXTON HALE. All further legal rights of or relating to MANN CO. is to be transferred to SAXTON HALE, and he may distribute the resulting legal work as he wishes. MANN CO. officially declares war measures against GREY. (See appendix A for information on term 'Grey'.)_

_ Legal information is available for full perusal by SAXTON HALE should he choose to do so. These documents may not be reproduced, mangled, destroyed, utterly decimated,, viewed without authorization, sent to paper heaven, etc. without express permission of SAXTON HALE._

I gave a derisive bark of laughter. Saxton Hale's name was always in capitals, although I knew it was not required, and nor was it standard tradition. I didn't read the appendix sections which were several pages long. I picked up the bone saw and examined it. Sharp, clean, and definitely serviceable. I found myself wondering about this Saxton Hale character. From what I heard, quite a man. Actually, what some blues said was that he was a demon from an Australian hell, but you can't always believe what you hear…can you?

A middle-aged man in a crisp suit knocked on our door. When we admitted him, he came in with a two large trays. Both trays had a large dish with a metal top covering it. He removed the covers, bowed, and left, leaving me to gawk at the food.

Scout had ordered a large bowl of pasta, and a plate with thick blue sludge in it. "What the 'ell is that?" I asked incredulously, pointing at the bowl of azure goo. Scout poked a bit with his finger and tasted it.

"It said it was melted ice cream."

"Why did you order melted ice cream?!"

"Cause it was weird."

"'as it occurred to you 'ow the 'ell we are going to pay for this?" I asked waspishly.

He smiled, and took a handful of small notes from his case of money. "Ta-da."

I rolled my eyes and turned to examine the pasta. It was just spaghetti covered in thick sauce. "Don't tell me you were going to finish that." Based on scout's resulting bemused expression, I'd say he was going to eat all that. I muttered a curse and glared at him. "What was in medic's chocolate?"

A blank look greeted me and I rolled my eyes. I left scout to his food, and went out into the corridor. My sudden exit caused an alarmed squeak from a person in the hall…a person with her ear pressed against engineer's door. The receptionist had been listening. She looked like she'd seen a ghost, and then she ran off, ignoring me. That in itself was enough to make me think. I knocked on engineer's door, and engie answered it. He gave me a furtive glance and whispered in an undertone, "Is she gone?"

"You knew she was listening?" I asked, amazed. "Not bad at this sort of perception are you?"

"Come in," he hissed, and then he waved me inside. Pyro sat in one corner, reading a book. Engineer turned to me. "When she came in to deliver the food, I couldn't hear the footstep receding. Plus, the door was recently fixed. There was a faint gap, and I could see her feet, so I just made random small talk with pyro." He grimaced. "Damn difficult to understand what pyro was saying, but I had to pretend."

I was suitably impressed and told him such. He smiled. "It's nothing. Where's scout? Ah've already seen to snipes and the red doc."

I frowned. "Scout was busy demolishing a plate of pasta. I think medic had some kind of permanent hunger-chemical in his chocolate. Or maybe he was already like that." I saw that engineer was simply eating a chicken wing, and I managed to hold back a chuckle. "Nothing like you." I wondered if pyro would eat. I knew he could take off his mask, and I was curious. I wanted to see his face.

Pyro glanced up at last. "Hddhmph?"

"I do not know what you just said," I announced mildly. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but, do you ever take off your mask? I 'ave 'eard that some pyros have lungs that are too damaged, but you lifted your mask once."

Pyro shrugged, and began undoing some catches on his suit. Engineer looked as though he was going to stop pyro, but obviously he was wondering what pyro looked like too.

Pyro lifted his mask to reveal…a normal face.

If you wanted me to guess his nationality or ethnicity, I'd fail. He looked like a blur of different genes. Asian…European…maybe some Spanish? A young, simple shaved face with a large mass of thick black-brown hair. Blue eyes stood in his eye sockets, curious and roaming. "Well?" he said in his soft, strange voice. "Did you expect a demon? Or a monster? Keeping the mask on lets me have an air of mysteriousness, you know?" He had no particular accent, making it even difficult to guess his race.

Engineer let out a breath, and then patted pyro's shoulder. "I'll be honest, pardner. I was expecting a twisted, burned face."

When he said, that, my mind flashed back to medic's burned back…and face. I shuddered, by nobody noticed, lucky for me. Pyro smiled.

"My back is plenty burned…from some of my pyrotechnic experiments."

Suddenly, my head jerked up as some sixth sense warned me of a presence outside. "Stop standing there and come in!" I snapped.

The door creaked, and the receptionist entered. In her hand was a pistol. The pistol from the suitcase…but in that case…where was scout?

"Hello, gentlemen," she said. She glanced at pyro. "You have a face. Interesting."

I saw that the black device was in her other hand. She saw me looking and grinned. It was a wolf grin, one that showed all her teeth. "The device was a tracker. No doubt the red spy has come by now."

"He's dead," I said, taking some satisfaction in that little victory.

Her eye twitched. "Hmph. Fine, but I stil have you at gun point."

"No ya' don't lady."

Scout came up behind her with a bat. He had a black eye and a bruise on his arm, and he also looked angry. With a quick swing that resulted in a meaty smack, he struck the woman in the back of the head. "Aw, and you were cute too." I noticed as the woman sagged that there were handcuffs around scout's hands, but he had broken the chain. How the hell did he get handcuffed?

Pyro coughed, and spoke in a voice that was obviously not used to speaking. "Scout, why are you handcuffed?"

Scout glanced over and saw the unmasked pyro. I saw him flinch, as though he'd been expecting a monster. Which he probably had been. He jangled the snapped chains on the handcuffs. "Well…I knida let my guard down."

I saw the slight red shade to his face and made the immediate connection. "Let me guess," I said flatly. "You…ah, _misinterpreted_ the use of the handcuffs, non?"

Scout muttered something incoherent and looked away. I shook my head. Pathetic.

Engineer was now dismantling the black device with his bare hands. "Interesting. A full transmission set in here. This thing's been broadcasting our position to someone, or something." He looked thoughtful. "Where did this come from?"

I thought back to the suitcase. "It was among medic's belongings."

Engineer's brow furrowed. "Wait, why would doc have set us up for this?"

"I think it was slipped into his belongings," I said hastily. "I doubt he knew about it."

Engineer snorted. "He knows things we don't even know about ourselves. He wouldn't miss this." He began taking apart more wires, and stopped to read some tiny words printed on the black case. "'Transmission to: BLU COMPUTER 1'. What in tarnation does that mean?"

I blinked. "I think it is referring to the computer."

"The one at the base?"

"Oui."

Engineer sat back and stared at the case. "I suppose. She must have thought it was something else."

"Maybe they did try to put a tracker on him, but he remade it?" I put in. I was throwing out theories, but I wouldn't put anything past the man. The dead man, I had to remind myself.

We all turned to the unconscious young women. "Nice hit, scout," I said. "Now she's probably dead. Or concussed."

Scout shrugged, but didn't look too apologetic.

Engineer's mind, I could tell, was now on overdrive. "Obviously, it's not safe here. We can't stay here when it's under control of Mann Co. I thought it'd be okay since we were only staying one night, but I wouldn't put it past some mean mother hubbard to come in and cut our throats at night." He drew his index finger across his throat. "KKKKKHHH. We probably have to move tonight."

Scout was first to protest. "Hey! That car ride was all uncomfortable like! There's a bed here, and I want to freakin' sleep in it!"

Pyro suddenly interrupted his rant. "Should we…should we call sniper and medic?"

"_Red_ medic," I said fiercely.

Pyro nodded and amended his statement. "Sniper and red medic?"

Scout ran out of the room, and we heard him rapping on the door. A moment later, he came back, sniper and red medic in tow. "What's up, at this late hour?" sniper asked.

"We just got attacked by a crazy secretary. Almost." Engineer proceeded to explain the events from the last few minutes.

"So," red medic said. "Ve should leave zhen? Zhis is obviously not zhe safest place, ja?" I saw him look worried. "Do you sink zhe rest of zhe staff vill be hostile as vell?"

"They're all under Mann Co. control here," I said. "I doubt it's really safe for them to **not** capture us or kill us."

Pyro's face did not surprise sniper and medic so much, oddly enough. Then sniper explained that he'd seen pyro's face before. "I got up around midnight once. I couldn't sleep. I saw him without his suit, drinking coffee."

Red medic did not act surprised because he said he was too surprised to be surprised, whatever that meant.

Eventually, tiredness caught up to us, and we decided to stay the night. Engineer began rigging a string across the area just beyond the door, inside the rooms. "What's that for, hardhat?" scout asked.

Engineer began securing it with a nail. Hopefully, by the time anyone noticed he'd defaced the wall, we'd be miles away. Many, many miles away.

"Anyone who barges in is gonna trip something awful." Engineer smiled. "The strings thin but strong. It's also black, and in the dark, is barely noticeable. With any luck, it won't make a darn shadow and give away the trap."

I nodded. "Impressive."

Engie laughed, a barking noise that reminded me of a shaggy dog's bark. "Well, I wouldn't be here if ah wasn't clever, if ah do say so mahself!" He checked the string and went to set it up in the other rooms. He looked back as he left. "Try not to sleep too deep. And keep a light on, if you can."

That night, as I settled down to sleep, I was restless. Earlier, engineer had tied up the woman and stashed her in a closet. My mind wandered around the strange events. Running away from Mann Co. Losing medic. Recruiting red medic. Leaving the other blue teamers behind. The traitorous receptionist. All this was too much to think of, so in the end it overloaded my mind, and I feel asleep. I dreamt of snakes.

The following morning was a bustle of activity. Engineer rapped on our door at five in the morning. "Spah, scout! Git outta bed! We've got a schedule to keep, and if we're late, we don't just lose time, we dah!" Encouraging man, isn't engie?

I stumbled out of bed, tired and unwilling to do anything. Eventually, I washed up and was about to grab my bags and leave when I remembered scout. I looked at him. He was still in bed, sleeping. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed his arm to heave him out of bed, but his other arm snaked around mine, and he fell even deeper to sleep, mumbling something about fish.

"OI! SCOUT! Release my arm!" I yanked the limb from his grip, and prodded his neck. "Wake up!"

His eyes fluttered open and he sat up slowly, looking around with bleary eyes. "Huh…? Spook? What's going on?"

"We are leaving, boy! Let's go!"

It took ten minutes to get scout ready to leave. This was mostly because at one point he collapsed in the middle of the floor, snoring. I had to kick him awake. Brutish, yes, but we were in a desperate hurry. The enemy was not going to wait for scout to be fully awake. Neither was I.

Eventually, I dragged scout and his luggage out into the lobby. Sniper was there with the others, tapping his foot. "Let's go, mates! We have to blaze a trail and get out of here. NOW!" He said the last part rather loudly, causing shushes to emanate from all of us. "Sorry."

"Right," engie said in an undertone. We're going to fuel up and drive like hell, cause' im going to bet there's someone here that's against us."

"Hey guys," scout yawned. "Can we eat something first?"

"Strohkopf! Ve do not have time for zhat!"

Scout shrugged and his eyelids sank halfway down his eyes. "Fine. Can we just grab something along the way?"

Red medic rolled his eyes. "GUTEN MORGEN, HERR SCOUT! Zhere are enemies all over, jawhol? Ve cannot spare zhe time to stop anyvhere. Ve have some supplies now, so let us go!"

Pyro was back in his suit, and he led the way out. He had a flare gun in his hand, and his head swiveled to watch for potential threats.

With the watchful man in the lead, we piled once again into the van, and engineer started the engine. As we were leaving, we heard shouting from inside the hotel. Snatches of the shouted orders could be heard.

"…find them!"

"…where…they?"

"…Mann Co….orders…."

"…no…."

Engineer floored the pedal, and the van barreled through the streets. His eyes and the gauge, engineer turned and looked at my face in the rearview mirror. "Spah, keep an eye out fer anyone followin' us, kay?"

I nodded, and glanced around. At this time in the morning, it was dark, and everyone was still asleep. Not for long though, since we soon heard sirens. Engie swore and pounded the steering wheel. "We need gas! We don' have time to fuel up!"

An idea popped into my head unbidden. "What if I head them off?"

Sniper looked at me incredulously. "And how, spook, will you bloody manage that?"

"I have my cloak watch and disguise kit. I can lead them in circles for ages," I pointed out. My tools of trade were indeed useful. "I could maybe buy you ten minutes or so, and then I'd eventually have to meet up with you."

Engineer looked reluctant to give the okay, but in the end, he said through gritted teeth, "Good luck, spah. Don' die the way doc did."

He streaked ahead of the pursuing cars and turned into a gas stop. There, I ran out across the street, in full view of the chasing police car. I ran into a side street, and the car turned in to chase me. Behind, I saw engineer hurriedly hooking up the pump and glaring at the police car.

Round the corner I went, and then I cloaked. The car shot past me, tires squealing. I made sure they didn't see me disguise or cloak, or they'd know there was no point in chasing me. Once they'd rounded the next corner, I crept into someone's front yard and decloaked, disguising as red medic. In that form, I ran out across the street, cutting through some buildings so I'd end up on the same street as the police cars. Once there I faked an expression of alarm and stood there, apparently stunned for a moment. Then, I took off, legs pounding. Unfortunately, I did not take in the possibility of a second car.

It made sense that there would be more than one car. As I cut into a main road, I saw the car from earlier and another car come on either side of me. Weaving past the car on my left, I hid in the shadow of a barber's place and cloaked, giving myself a chance to rest. I sat down, breathing heavily and wiping sweat from my forehead. I realized my balaclava was in the car, and I felt bare without it. Deciding that silence was best, I watched as the cars began to circle the street. I could tell they were losing interest in me soon, so I disguised as our scout and dashed out. "Hey knuckleheads!" I called. "Betcha can't catch me!" I dashed into a side street and cloaked just in time to avoid the view of the police car drivers as they drove past me.

I checked the watch. Eight minutes had elapsed, and I knew they were just going to give up and search for the van at some point. Making sure the cars were still patrolling the area where I supposedly was, I crept away, and then made my way to the van. Engie had fueled the van up by then.

"We're good," he said. "Ninety percent of the tank, but we'll make it." I saw him consult the map. "Couple hours drive to a rest stop. That's about the boundary of Mann Co's reach."

"So when we drive past, we're home free!" scout crowed, elated.

Sirens cut him short, and sniper smiled wearily. "If we get past. This heap of a van won't outrace those police cars, I tell ya' mate!"

Engineer checked the map. "We'll get outta town first and see how long before they start chasing. Then…well, did you all bring your weapons?"

Pyro produced his flamethrower, and scout held up his scattergun. The rest of us had weapons stored amongst our belongings.

Engie nodded, and motioned for us to all board the van again. This time, he drove at nearly maximum speed. Throwing caution to the winds, he set us shooting off at 90 miles an hour. It may not be a godly speed, but keep in mind this is a large van. Now, we were eating the distance between us and the next over town. I waited with bated breath to hear sirens chasing us, but when no sound came I let out a sigh, and turned to face front. Now I was in the passenger side on the front, and I saw the dust swirl around us. Particles of dirt and tiny pebbles smashed into the windshield, bouncing off the metal frame of the van.

Scout was whistling tunelessly, and sniper was glaring at him. I grinned, and sat back for the ride out of here.

-Eight Hours (With a Rest Stop) Later-

It was about four in the afternoon, and I was about to turn into a statue and crumble away. Just how far out in nowhere was Mann Co? We've been driving for hours, and still there's no end in sight!

Sniper stuck duct tape on scout's mouth a few hours back, unable to stand the toneless whistling. Scout had ripped it off, and the two had tried to kill each other until red medic grabbed the roll of tape and tied them both up. Now they sat silently, glaring at each other.

Engineer was looking rather discouraged. I did not blame him, as we were still driving, and it was mostly dusty flatlands all around, save for massive brown mountains off east. However, he seemed worried about something else. I decided to ask him about it.

"Engineer? What is wrong?"

Engie glanced at the map he'd lain on the dashboard. "We oughta be able to see a damn rest stop right about now. We're out of Mann Co. territory, but we're not safe yet. I was hoping that we could stop at the rest stop, stay the night, refuel, and drive like hell next morn."

I looked about, and saw nothing around. "Well, we are not anywhere. What do you mean, by the way, that we are not safe? We are out of their land, non?"

Engineer laughed hoarsely. "They'll send whatever they can after us." A tense expression stole over his face. "Ah think we better look for a sign. Did I take a wrong road? There were only two splits so far."

I saw a large green sign up ahead. "'Carrion Road.' Very nice," I grumbled.

Engineer glanced at the map and sighed with relief. "Phew! We're nearly there. I guess medic miscalculated the time it'd take."

"So, we have how long?"

Engineer tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully. "Mebbe another half hour?"

True to his word, engineer got us to the rest stop within half an hour. I saw right away that it was different. Unlike the eerily intact Mann Co. lands, this place looked a bit run down, but there were people moving about in the parking lot, and there were cars present. "Civilization!" I cried.

Sniper snickered. "And the last town wasn't 'civilization'?"

"Non," I growled. "And neither was the rest stop. There was an old geezer and a random guy there."

We pulled into the lot and I checked the time. It was nearly five. I saw sniper head towards a motel and I shuddered. I'd heard about motels. Nasty places. Often rather expensive, and worse than one star hotels. Rats sometimes nested in them. "Sniper! Bushman!"

Sniper turned and glanced at me. "Wot, spook?"

"Do we have to stay at a motel?"

Sniper looked about and saw a small hotel. He analyzed the signs hanging from both places. "The motel's ten bucks a night. The hotel's eleven. This place is cheaper."

Scout wasn't sure why I disliked motels, but decided to agree with me, it seemed. He held up a fistful of American notes. "Hey, hey! We have cash. Let's go ta' the hotel!"

I wonder where I can get euros.

Engineer went to refuel the van while we gathered our stuff and went to the hotel. There, we found they accommodated three to a room, so we were given room twenty and twenty-two.

The rooms resembled the rooms from the last hotel, save for the extra bed and presence of a TV. Scout turned it on and began flipping through channels while pyro and I put down our stuff. I went over to the window, since we were on the second story, and surveyed the open desert beyond. I wasn't sure where we were, and how I was transported from France to America in a train, but I didn't care. Staring at the heated sand began to make my eyes waver, and soon I felt like I was submerged in water. Everything was slow. I was tired, really tired, and I could no longer here scout's TV.

Then, a very familiar German voice spoke in my ear. "Good luck, Herr Spy. You're not dead yet, unlike me. By zhe vay, if you die, I am going to tear your soul apart, because I definitely did not die so you could die." I blinked, and then the world span and all went black.

There was a great commotion the next morning. A fire had broken out in the gas station. We were lucky really, since the fire had caused an explosion, but there were no gas pipes leading to the hotel, and the gas station was on the other side of the establishment. I stood slowly and stretched, since I'd fallen asleep at the windowsill, and so spent the night slumped against the wall below the window. My back ached from the bent position.

"Good morning, spy," a pleasantly soft voice murmured. I looked up at the unfamiliar voice and saw pyro. Of course. I wasn't used to hearing his voice quite yet.

"Bonjour. Where is scout?" I looked around. Both beds were mussed up, but scout was nowhere to be seen.

Pyro nodded and gestured towards the door. "He went outside to see the gas station."

"He shouldn't," I said. "There's gas all over, and if there's a second ignition scout will be nothing more than a charred skeleton."

Pyro went past me to look out the window. It was facing the other way, though. Pyro turned to me. "Shall we go?"

Pyro and I left swiftly, pyro in the casual wear of jeans and a white t-shirt. I noticed his hair was in a ponytail in the back.

Downstairs, the others were already up and about. Sniper and red medic were going through baggage. I remembered that we hadn't brought down our stuff, so we trudged back up the stairs to grab the bags. Once again, we went downstairs, and the others had packed up already. I felt a painful twinge in my back as I climbed into the van. The sleeping against the wall act hadn't turned out well.

I sat in the back row while engineer explained the plan. "We're out of the territory, so you can relax." As he said this, my mind flashed back to the team members I'd fought with. Soldier. Demo. Medic. Heavy. Urrrgh. "However, we wanna keep an eye open a crack anyway, since Mann Co. really, really doesn't want us to run off, see?"

A murmur of assent.

"Great. Now let's get under way. We're going to drive onwards to our final destination. Once we're there I'll explain our individual options."

We had been driving for ten minutes when red medic looked around and spoke up.

"Vhere's scout?"

AN: I just had some teeth yanked out…I can't feel my jaw. Bleh. Still, it's better than a couple years back, when I was somehow immune to the anesthetic. I could feel them yanking out my teeth…urgh. How was the story? Also, a guest informed me that my story was off from Mann vs Machine. Thank you, but I never intended to make it conform to MvM. As for purple robot…it wasn't purple, was it? I thought I made the sniper purple. Or did I? I have a headache. \(_)/ And blue medic dying…er, this is a fanfiction, Herr Guest. Thanks for reading though.


	13. Chapter 13: Back From the Dead

Scout was pouting. I could tell without looking; it sort oozed the negative emotion around him. I just sensed that. When I looked over, he indeed was sitting there, glaring at engineer and crossing his arms.

Sniper looked at scout's angry disposition. "Right negative, aren't you, mate? Get over it!"

"You freakin' left me behind!"

Sniper tried to look apologetic, but spoiled the action by snickering. Scout swore and looked out the window.

Scout had gone off see a gasoline explosion. It might have been interesting, but we'd been about to leave. I looked in the side mirror, which showed smoke rising from the rest stop.

I stared straight ahead at the dusty area beyond. There were mountains and hills coming up ahead and there were faint traces of greenery. We were really out of Mann Co. territory. Relief washed over me, and I stared with new eyes at the bright blue sky. Wispy clouds floated around, not moving, yet when you glanced back after a minute they had shifted a few feet. My vision was suddenly impaired by a cactus we drove by.

Engineer twisted the steering wheel, and the van rolled down a side passage that lead to the foot of the mountains. "Boys, I have no idea where in tarnation we are, but the map says past these hulking hills are civilization. If any of you wished you had used the bathroom, to darn late."

Engineer is as comforting as our medic was. Hmph.

The car ride lasted ages. We drove past rocky walls and green plants that grew all over. There were fallen trees in our way twice, since apparently there had been a landslide. Did you know that setting a relatively dry log on fire can reduce it to ash? Pyro enjoyed that a little too much.

Red medic was looking more and more worried. His eyes roamed over us, but they were death-bed eyes, as though he expected us to drop dead at any moment. As I sat in the passenger seat I felt his eyes boring into my seat's headrest. Sniper saw him staring at us all like we were aliens, but ignored him. I suppose he thought all medics were weird that way. Except ours.

I decided to pretend medic was not analyzing us all, and focused on the road before me. The concrete was ancient and cracked, dark grey and brittle. Obviously, it had been paved years ago. Heck, maybe when they first made concrete! There were entire sections where the concrete was gone, replaced by sandy dirt roads. I noted the lack of signs, where roads and highways were usually named and labeled so drivers knew where they were. The only thing even close to a sign was a bull skull hung on a fence post. We drove past it a few minutes ago, and I shivered. Disturbing.

We'd gone on maybe another hour when sniper exploded. "DOC, WHY ARE YA' SO TENSE AND PERRIN' AT US? WE GOT A DISEASE?"

Red medic jumped, and I heard the seat belt system creak in protest. "Ack! Ah! Uh, Herr Sniper, I vas just vorried."

"Worried?" Sniper looked curious. "So are we sick or summat?"

"No, nien. I zhink zhere is somezhing wrong vith your health, but it is not a sickness. It has to do vith the medi-gun rays I told you about earlier."

"Didn't we establish that we'd ignore that? Doc did something good, so let it rest!" engineer called back.

Red medic shook his head. "Do any of you feel dizzy?"

All of us, including pyro, paused, expecting nausea to wash over us, but none came. Slowly, denying mutters came from our mouths.

"Should we be feeling sick loike?" Sniper asked.

"Jawhol. We are so high up! I feel nauseous, and I have quite zhe head for heights."

Engineer looked at a section of fence. There was a deep valley on our right, which made me nervous. "Well, I can tell we're up real high. Mebbe you're just ill, doc."

Red medic shook his head furiously. "No, nononono! The air is thinning. How are you unaffected? I am having trouble breathing. And zhere is frost on zhe vindshield. Have you not noticed zhat zhe trees we are passing are all winter trees now?"

Now that medic brought it to our attention, I saw pine trees about us. Indeed, frost was on the windshield's edges, but we barely felt cold.

Red medic pointed a shaky finger at the van's dashboard. "The heater is not on. I am freezing. I have a zheory, but I am afraid to say it."

"Which means I want you to say it," pyro said cheerfully. He smiled. "Well?"

Red medic looked at the curious faces around him, and then gave a theatrical sigh. "Very vell. I zhink your medic has modified you."

Silence, and then, laughter.

"Modified us? HA! Sure, doc, loike we're aliens now, mates!"

"C'mon doc, I got know idea why you're sayin' dat!"

Red medic was flushed, but he had a worried expression nevertheless. "No! Listen to me! I zhink he modified the medi-gun rays to have some lasting effect on you, one ozher zhen the temporary age-freezing!"

Great. I'd wanted to forget about our medic, hopefully put him behind us. Now unwanted memories flooded back, and I felt sadness swirl around my mind.

Red medic was speaking again. "He has altered your anatomy somehow. You are unaffected by zhe cold and thin area. Vhy is zhat? Maybe in zhe food or in zhe rays, he added certain materials to your bodies?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," pyro said mildly.

With an angry hiss, red medic jabbed sniper's side. "Your. Medic. Changed. Something. In. You. People."

Nobody spoke for a full ten minutes, in which engineer sped up the van, and we traveled another couple of kilometers. Then there was hesitant speech from pyro.

"Changed us? As far as I know, he disliked too much blood and such, so he never performed much surgery. Once, he did an operation on soldier's wrist when it cracked, and another time on sniper's trigger finger, but that's it."

Sniper smiled. "I'm only alive cause of that you know. When you're useless, I hear most medics terminate you. My trigger finger came right off from a spy's cut. Most medics would've killed me then and there. It's apparently a bit of work to reattach an index finger, mate. He did some magic, he did."

Red medic looked mildly impressed. "Vell, it _is_ rather difficult to reattach completely severed digits. However, it is not impossible, and certainly not something amazingly god-like. What I've seen and heard so far seems more impressive. So he really hasn't done much surgery?"

Sniper held up his right hand, and held up his trigger finger. There were stitches around the first joint. "See this, mate? Cut clean off. I set my hand on the crate for five seconds and it's gone. I stabbed the bugger, but I lost the finger. Now it's back. Tell me that's not a miracle. It works just as well as before!"

Red medic nodded. "I admit your previous medic's skill. It is usually considered impossible to restore full function. But zhat is not zhe point. I vas wondering how he could have altered your anatomy. I am sure he did so, since ve are in razher harsh conditions. By zhe vay. Zhe fuel is freezing." He said this so calmly we at first thought he as joking. Then engineer noticed that the fuel bar dropped an entire section in a few seconds. It stopped dropping then, but he looked alarmed.

Red medic rapped the van door with his hand. "I sink it has frosted over in zhe tank, but it vill not freeze. The van's engine is too varm."

Engineer grimaced. "Well, I notice a chill for sure, so let's speed up and eat up the distance before anything goes wrong."

I was thinking about so many things. What was red medic talking about? Medic altered us? I thought we were done with mysteries, and that we'd left all problems behind with Mann Co. And how was it that I still regretted leaving the rest of BLU team behind? I closed my eyes and breathed out. When I opened them, I saw a white cloud of my breath's condensation. Was it really that cold?

Red medic's teeth were chattering, so engineer turned on the heater. We drove along, van now bumping and vibrating against the uneven gravely track. Red medic dozed off, along with the rest of the team. Only pyro remained awake, eyes wide and alert, observing the surrounding landscape. The sheer drop on our right disturbed me greatly, especially since the path we were on was exceedingly narrow. It was irrational, but every time I glanced at the road's edge I felt a sudden fear of plunging off that sheer valley's upper lip, and falling to our deaths. I do not generally have a fear of heights, but this monstrous depth disturbed me.

I eventually fell asleep too. I wanted to stay awake and watch us streak past the scenery, but exhaustion and stress defeated me.

**-An Hour Passes, in Which Engineer Drives Out of the Mountains and Into a Small Town.-**

I awoke to the sound of quiet cheering. Engineer and sniper were grinning like loons, looking out the windows. I opened my eyes and rubbed exhaustion from them. Colors assaulted me. We were driving past a row of neon-signed shops, many of them restaurants. "Where are we, laborer?"

Engineer laughed out loud and said, "Out of that hellhole, that's for darn sure!"

The others began to stir, and I noticed with some amusement that red medic woke up instantaneously. There was no yawning or eye rubbing with him. He simply opened his eyes and sat up, eyes aware. Was he really asleep?

I checked the time. It was about two in the afternoon, and engineer was eyeing the fuel bar cautiously. "Lemme grab some fuel, fellas, and then we'll look fer a map of where the hell we are."

After we refueled, engie parked us by a restaurant crowded full of people. Some glanced up as we entered, but mostly we were ignored. A man in a disheveled suit glanced at us. "Looking for lunch?" He led us to a large table, and we all sat down, ignoring the menus. Engineer slapped some papers on the table. Some were maps, otherstyped documents.

"Well, we're somewhere in Nevada. It makes no sense, but here we are. Ah came from Texas, and the train ride wasn't more then twenty minutes. Snipes came from Australia, pyro, well, sorry, I have no idea. Frenchie, France, scout, Boston, which is on the other side of America, and god knows what else." He took a map of the united states out. Then, he pointed towards Nevada. "Ah'm not gonna question how the hell they did it, so let's just let it be, okay? Now, we could all take a chance at living in America, but I doubt any of us have any decent amount of money. We'd have trouble staying, much less getting back to our homelands."

Sniper frowned. "I've got no money, mate. How'll I get back to Australia? I don't have much in the way of a house there, but it's home."

Engineer sighed. "See, we originally had medic as our benefactor. He said he could get us cash, and he gave scout a case of American notes." Scout waved a dollar around with a grin. "However, there's no way for us to get bank account numbers from a corpse that has probably been incinerated by now. Also, I think he'd have to do the withdrawal himself. For him to have a bunch of currencies and large amounts of money may mean illegal stuff, like!"

Red medic drank from a glass of water that had been placed in front of him. "My wife died before I started vorking for Mann Co., but I still have zhe house. I've got some money saved up, but I'm not going to get any money out of zhis hellish venture." He gritted his teeth. "And unlike you blues, I didn't stop aging, so I'm old. Who vill hire me now? I don't have a medical license eizher!"

At that moment a blue-haired young man in a black suit approached our table. I was about to tell him that we weren't ready to order when he spoke in a crisp voice.

"The blue medic has instructed me to give you this. Make of it what you will." He produced a letter and a butterfly knife. Laying it on the table, he turned on the spot and hurried off into the crowd without looking back.

Engineer chuckled darkly. "Just like doc. Even dead he's got some surprises. How the hell did he know to get someone to deliver the stuff for him?"

I shrugged. "How does medic do anything? He seemed omnipotent. Maybe he knew he was going to die?"

"Nien," red medic said. "No man vould throw himself at death like zhat. Anyhow, despite his amazing medical vork, he cannot possible have predicted his own death."

I grabbed the letter and slit it open with my butterfly knife. Inside was a letter and a few smaller sheets of paper.

_ Hello, Engineer, Scout, Spy, Pyro,and if I am right in guessing, Sniper and Red Medic._

_ Perhaps you are wondering if I knew I was going to die. Maybe. Maybe not. This letter makes it sound like it, but it was to be delivered whether I died or not. You may have questions. How did I know so many things? What is going on? I will not answer you, and if you are reading this and not me, then I will never be able to tell you. Corpses cannot talk._

_ At this point, most of you are likely to be in an economic difficulty. I predicted which restaurant you'd stop at, and came up with two possible locations. My hired hand will deliver it and keep his mouth shut. Now, down to business. To solve your monetary difficulties, I have made several plans with their own contingency plans and backups to ensure they go through. You will need to visit the different banks listed on the smaller sheets of paper and follow the instructions to masquerade as a certain individual. It is imperative you are careful. In this day and age, with modernized technology, there will be difficulty with some banks. You may need passports and such, but I have made sure the right people are in the right banks. Simply go to the guard on duty. If my date estimate is correct, the guard will be one of my 'people'. Simply ask him casually, 'Who controls the medic's account?'. If he does not understand, ignore him. Search for another guard. Do not make yourself to obtrusive. One guard will recognize it, and set you up with the right clerk. My apologies for not surviving far enough to guide you further._

_Good Luck_

What a strange letter. I read it once more, and reflected that medic really was quite strange. I surveyed the restaurant, trying to see the hired hand, but the only person that looked anything like him was someone sitting in a corner, typing at a laptop.

The raucous din of the restaurant deafened us, so engineer gathered all the documents and we hurried out. At the moment, none save scout were hungry. We ignored his complaints and scrambled to locate the banks. The first bank was called the "World Wide Companions" bank. It was large with sliding glass doors. There were two guards standing on duty, and two more stood inside. I groaned inwardly. We couldn't ask them all the question without drawing attention!

We walked to the bank, a strange group. I decided to wait and gauge the first two guards' reactions. They stood stock still, hands on their pistols, and let us pass wordlessly. Inside, one of the guards started at our appearance, but stood back up silently. _That's the one._

Engineer noticed the guard too. He broke away from the group and walked up to the guard. In a low whisper, he asked, "Who controls the medic's account?"

The guard glanced at the other guard, and then ushered us towards the line. He bent down and muttered in my ear, "First clerk. Try not to go to anyone else. If someone else finishes, make a show of looking for a checkbook or something."

I nodded confirmation and repeated them to the others.

I was selected to stand in line. We were an odd group, and I certainly was strange, wearing a mask, but nobody questioned us. I soon saw that many others were dressed oddly as well, and that this city must be a gathering point for foreigners or people from other states.

The first clerk was open right away. He was an extremely old man, hunched and balding. He was very short and just barely visible behind his desk. When he saw the mask, he glanced at the planted guard, who gave a quick nod. It was a very faint nod, unnoticeable on the security camera. Just a few pixels worth of movement.

With his confirmation, the old man grinned. "Hello, my dear sir. You're the spy, I presume? I was instructed to deal with the red medic, since I have some Euros and various marks. I'm told Germany is making the Euro the sole currency soon, though."

I nodded. "But can I get the money for red medic?"

The old clerk glanced down at his computer. "Ah...I have a check here for 630120 euros. That's about 800,000 American dollars." The old man whistled. "What a sum!"

I was amazed too, and I asked him to confirm it, which he did. How did medic garner this much money?

The old teller wasn't done yet though. "4725 euros." He handed me a fat stack of notes, along with the check. "Enjoy. I advise you not to take it for yourself. The euros in France are worth the same, but some have different printing patterns."

The old teller waved me away, and then tapped his forehead. "I'll pretend I never saw you or your friends."

Holding the check and stack of bills, I handed the lot to Red Medic, whose eyes widened considerably. "Mein Gott! How did you get zhis much?"

Sniper looked at the notes blankly. "Is that a lot, mate? Australian dollars are different."

Red medic waved a red note in front of him. "Jawhol, it is a lot!"

We went to the next bank, which was interestingly named 'South East Medical Bank'. Fascinating. I entered the glass doors, noting that there was just one guard inside. There was nobody in line. I went over to the guard and murmured, "Who controls the medic's account?"

The guard turned to me slowly, and then pointed at the third clerk, a young Chinese woman. "Talk with her and only her. The others will lock you out." I hurried forward then. I reflected ruefully that I'd done too well last time. The others had singled me out to go and ask the guard and get the withdrawal.

The clerk looked up as I came. "Here. This is for Sniper." She held out a small box. The top was not sealed, and I peeled away part cover to see stacks of Australian notes. "Now go quickly. My contact at the other bank says you hung around too long. It'll draw suspicion." How large was medic's network of spies and hired hands? I imagined him as a tiny spider, with a web that covered the world, almost invisible, but certainly there.

I handed the box to sniper, who reacted much the same as medic. "Holy dooly! This is a ton of cash!"

Engineer frowned. "Let's go. We have more banks to cover."

We went down a side alley, following a map we found. The bank we came to now was small and dusty, but it was obviously on purpose to make it less conspicuous. There were eight security guards, and a small line of wealthy looking people inside.

There were far too many guards, and worst of all, no sign that any of them recognized us. We stood off to one side for a while, debating who to go to.

The decision was made for us as one guard stepped forward and asked in a deep, baritone voice, (I jumped, since the guard was very thin and gangly.) "Can I help you?"

I took the initiative. "Who controls the medic's account?"

The guard grinned. "I'm glad I came here before my fellow guards. Talk to the first clerk." He hurried back to his position, and gave us a small nod.

The first clerk was a severe looking man with a hooked nose. He was not unlike a hawk. I waited impatiently in line until I was at last called up, but by the second teller. The first clerks eyes darted towards me, and then he slapped a note in his current client' hand, (The man muttered a curse word at him and left huffily.) calling all the while, "I'll take the next man in line!" He spoke deliberately louder than the second teller, so I'd have reason to go to him. I went over with a thankful expression.

He put on a pair of glasses and began looking through some papers. "Hello, hello, I know I've got your amount here somewhere." He looked up at me. "By the way, all the guards were under the medic's pay, so you could have asked any one of them." He clanked back down at his papers and pulled out a stack of notes. "Ah, here we go. Michael Harrison. The sum of 750,000 dollars in checks, and eight hundred dollars on fifty-dollar bills." He handed me a large envelope. "Go quickly. A little help for you. In the next bank, there are two guards. Look for the better-looking one."

I frowned. "What do you mean, better looking."

The hawk man chuckled. "You'll see."

I left, and rejoined the others. Engineer took the notes with a nod and we all glanced down at the next bank. 'Trouble Bank'. The paper noted that it was for me. Why did I get the trouble bank? The bank in question was just a few blocks away, and resembled the bank from just now. I understood then why the clerk had said better-looking one.

One guard had a burn scar twisting the right cheek of his face. The other one was a youthful blonde man with a boyish grin. He smiled easily at us as we entered, and I said discreetly to him, "Who controls the medic's account?" The guard whispered back to me, "Medic himself. Except corpses don't do much."

I stared at him blankly, and then he laughed. "Just joking. Last teller, on the right."

The last teller was fifth, and he had no visible face.

What?

Ah, he had a mask on. I did not question it, and I took the check and large stack of Euros silently. I was about to leave when the masked man leaned forward and grabbed my hand. "Wait," he said, voice quiet. "Your pyro has no bank. I have his sum right here." The man held up a white envelope. "It's got American currency and Euros."

"Thank you," I said hurriedly. I took the money back to the group and we did a quick check. Everyone had their due amounts.

The scout burst out, "I'M STARVING!"

**-At a Buffet, Where I Tried With some Difficulty Not to Comment on Scout's Monstrous Appetite.-**

I am of the belief that scout has two stomachs. He ate his way through several plates of food, and was still eating when most of us had finished two plates and were talking idly amongst ourselves. I hadn't noticed anything at first, until I glanced over and saw at least a dozen plates and even more bowls stacked high. Amazed, I watched as scout finished off a chicken leg. He looked up at me, wiping his mouth as he did so. "What?"

"How did you eat so much?"

Scout shrugged. "I'm hungry."

I suppose it would have been alright for him to eat a lot, since he is always running around, but I didn't see how he'd eaten that much. I'm glad it was a buffet, or we'd be paying quite a bit.

Eventually, we left, scout rubbing his stomach and grinning. "Where to?"

Engineer looked at him, expression sour. "The manager got mad at us, you know. Ah had to apologize for you eating so much."

Scout didn't look too sorry, and engineer held up his stack of notes. "We have a ton of cash now. We can fly off to our own places, and live our own lives."

This was it. The moment I had been trying not to think about. Within the last few months, the blue team had become a vital part in my life, as though they were another organ. So we were to separate then, and I was to return to my solitary life in an oversized, inherited house.

Engineer was talking again. "Ah know where ah'm going. Back to Texas."

Sniper crossed his arms. "Oi'm going back to the Australian outback, mates. That is, if oi can bloody well get there."

Engineer prodded his arm. "Ah'll arrange the plane tickets."

Pyro spoke next, surprisingly. "To be honest, I didn't have a solid home for a while. I lived in a few different houses, using money from odd jobs." He blinked rapidly for a moment. "I don't know where I'm supposed to go, but with this money maybe I'd go to Europe."

Scout was obviously going to return to Boston, and he seemed too full to say so. Or rather, he seemed to be in sudden gastric pain, so we left him be.

Red medic shuffled his feet. "I vill return to Germany, of course, but zhere is something else I vant to see before I go." He looked nervous, and then he said, "I vas vondering if I could ask you a few questions about your past medic?" He turned to me as he said this.

"No." I said firmly. "Non. I will not answer questions about him." I wasn't going to so much as think about him as possible. By the way the others squirmed I could tell they felt the same.

Red medic looked vaguely disappointed, but he said nothing. He looked away while the others began murmuring amongst themselves.

Engineer finally decided to take charge. "Okay, so this is what we're gonna do. We-"

"You're not doing anything, my friends."

We all spun to come face to face with a small group of men. All wore business suits and held rather nasty guns in hand, varying from black pistols to combat rifles. "It appears we are not welcome here," engineer said softly.

We were roughly dragged along and brought to the edge of the town. Car drivers glanced at us as we drove by. The men may as well have been out of a movie, armed and in black suits. However, unlike men in a movie, the guns they carried were genuine, and so we went along. I kept fingering my cloaking watch.

Inside we were dragged into a dimly lit room and stuffed in. We sat in stunned silence for a moment once our guard left and locked the door behind him.

"Vell, zhis certainly vas an excellent idea," medic said sarcastically.

Sniper looked around at the steel walls. "Solid steel, mate. Who the hell are these people?"

As though in answer, a middle-aged man in a casual white T-Shirt and jeans came in. He looked Spanish. "Hello, my friends."

"Friends, Ha!" Sniper snorted under his breath.

The man looked at him critically. "Oh, I am your friend, depending on what you consider a friend. You might be wondering why you're here now, when you were so close to getting away. Suffice to say that your amigo medic made a few enemies in his lifetime. Sure, we're not the shiniest side of law, but _el medico_ shouldn't have bothered us. We're your equivalent of mafiya, see?"

"So why nab us?" I asked. I tried to look braver than I felt. "For our cash?"

He laughed. "We don't care about your money." He held up his left hand, which had several expensive looking rings on each. "Mann Co. has something out for you. Quite a payment. Why not just take your money? Well, amigos, Mann Co. has offered millions-no-a little over a billion. Plus, we hate your medic, si? We also have a surprise for you, but we'll show you that later." He winked. A wink can mean many things. It was either a friendly gesture or an evil action that meant "You're not going to like what happens next".

I had a feeling it wasn't a good thing.

We were locked up in the room for about an hour, during which we put out ideas. They hadn't blindfolded us or bound us, but they didn't need to. There were guards all over, and the facility was a massive, solid compound. We did have our weapons, which may have been a mistake on their part, but we didn't have much. Most of our equipment was on the van. We did a quick inventory.

Sniper had his kukri, as usual. Pyro held his flare gun, which he was showing scout, who has his scattergun. Scout also had a Lugermorph. I myself had all my equipment, which was better than red medic. He had no weapons on him, and was virtually defenseless. Engineer carried a pistol, but that was it. His building kit and other equipment were not with him.

All in all, we weren't all that great. However, I had a sneaking suspicion that our captors knew very little about our team and our equipment, or they'd have confiscated my cloaking watch for sure. Certainly I might sneak out, but I wouldn't be able to get all the others out too. Scout was complaining about how we were almost home free. I couldn't help but wish medic wasn't so calm. I imagine that he antagonized many people over his lifetime. What a pain.

At last, the man returned, and he brought two armed guards with him. Both carried something that resembled an uzi, and I wondered briefly why they'd use such relatively primitive technology.

We were led into a massive chamber with fluorescent lights on the ceiling. There were no other doors, equipment, or people. Just a giant room with empty floors. The man sneered at us. "Enjoy your stay. If you're still alive in half a day, we'll come and fetch you, si?" He waved cheerily and left us there. The money was still in our original cell. What were we supposed to do here though? Half a day wouldn't starve us, and if they wanted to kill us with gas or something, they wouldn't wait like this, would they?

Time wore on for a quarter of an hour. We all sat down, conserving strength for whatever we may need to do next. Each of us harbored our own individual ideas of escape, but nobody said anything. The only one even remotely relaxed was scout, who dozed peacefully a few feet away.

At one point, a speaker came on. The Spanish man spoke.

"Buenas tardes, amigos. How are we feeling today? I have a little present from Mann Co. It might kill you. It might not. Enjoy."

The word "Enjoy" made it all the more ominous. As his voice crackled off the speakers, there was the grinding of gears, and a metal section of the wall slid away. Even scout perked up to watch.

A large wooden crate about the height and width of a man was shoved in. We all held our breaths. A robot? We could deal with one robot.

The crate's front fell off, and everyone let out a collective cry of surprise.

Medic, hole in his head, bloodied, and battered, stood swaying slightly outside the crate. His eyes glowed a dark, crimson red.


	14. Chapter 14: Close Combat

**MINI CHAPTER 13.5: Close Combat**

Would you attack someone you knew very well? If your best friend held a gun to your head and threatened to pull the trigger, would you let him kill you or would you lunge at him, try to stop him and save your life, even at the cost of killing him? Self-preservation is in all human psyches, and even the suicidal must consider greatly killing themselves. So would you attack them?

I didn't.

I was stunned, really, in my defense. I would say it's not my fault I didn't defend myself, but before I knew anything, medic stood in front of me. He looked terrible. His flesh was intact but so pale. So very pale. His face was not that of a corpse, his eyes not sunken and his flesh not rotten. In general, he was not what someone might have called a zombie. Maybe. I wouldn't know at that moment, because next I felt a flash of burning pain, and agony tore through my chest. I looked down dumbly, doing nothing as medic's arm slid almost smoothly through my skin, right into my right lung. I looked up at him through a haze of red. I couldn't feel the pain anymore.

Then, I could not feel anything.

Black, dark, cold. I was spinning. Or whirling? Whatever. Why was I revolving in a circle? So rapidly. So violently. I am shaking. I'm going to fall apart. I can feel my flesh tearing, breaking. I can't feel my limbs.

I opened my eyes. My first coherent thought was, _Why am I not dead?_ I was lying on the ground, so I sat up, without pain and stared down at my torn suit. There was a bloody hole in the fine material, but of my actual wound there was simply a reddening patch of skin. I poked it cautiously and was rewarded by a jolt of pain.

"AGH!"

I scrunched over, feeling pain reverberate through my entire system.

"Avake, Herr Spy?"

I looked up to see red medic, shadows under his eyes and posture exhausted. There as blood all over him, but it seemed to be not his. "I have had so much difficulty patching up you lot. Zhere vere so many injuries. It vas zhe strangest zhing at zhe end though."

"What happened?" I asked groggily. My throat was dry and my voice cracked slightly. "Where's medic?"

Red medic looked over to the crate. I saw a shuddering form there, our blue medic. He stood, arms clasped over his head and shaking, letting out a low keening noise that was barely audible. "What is wrong with 'im?"

Red medic shrugged. "Herr Doktor simply started attacking all the ozhers. Zhen, before I knew it, he was in front of me. Zhen, right zhen, he suddenly screamed." Medic shuddered, reliving the sound in his mind. "He stopped attacking, and zhen he vas clutching his forehead like his life depended on it. Next zhing I knew he handed me a few syringes from his pocket and vent over zhere."

Medic held up an empty syringe. "Zhese are zhe cause of your recovery, it vould seem. I vanted to keep some to analyze later, and I considered leaving you since I really doubted you'd live, but you did."

"You considered LETTING ME DIE?" I screeched. "YOU SON-"

"Calm down, Herr Spy," red medic said softly. "Loud noises bozher your would-be-dead medic."

I looked over and saw that in response to my raised voice, our medic had become more agitated, staggering around the crate and mumbling. However, if I squinted I could see a bloody hole. The bullet had gone clear through his head, but sections of flesh and bloody nets had covered most of the gap. Disturbingly though, I could partially see through the gaps. Medic was dead, no doubt.

From my examination, I noticed another crucial detail.

Metal parts and pieces were embedded into his skin, grafted into him, crafted into his flesh. Metal wires and slots that were covered by the sleeves, but in medic's disturbance he had rolled up his sleeves. His bare arms were covered in an assortment of metal, and wires were running through his thick, bloody hair. I noticed them now because they glowed a brilliant blue. No doubt much more of his body was crafted with metal. His eyes too had been altered, and I saw that they were glowing red.

What had the Mann Co. bastards done to our medic? He was dead, damn it all, let him rest!

Red medic had come to a similar conclusion and was now rather unconsciously scanning him for weaknesses. I left him too it and searched the room for my teammates.

The others all lay about, injured in various ways, if their clothing was anything to go by, but they seemed alive. The steady rise and fall of their chests reassured me, and I sighed with relief. I crawled-walked to scout and looked down at him. It seems our medic smashed through scout's chest too. I felt the injury on my own chest and wondered how medic's hand had gone so cleanly into our flesh. Another question popped into my head. Was medic still alive, under all that? Why had he given us the syringes? No, he was dead. It appeared that he was simply being controlled, his physical self. Mentally, he was empty, a hollow shell. Wasn't he?

But then, why had he given the syringes? Broken away the attack? Let us live and begun holding his head as though it would explode. Another idea came into focus. Had they reenergized his mind, and brought his consciousness back with it? It seemed likely, if they had technology comparable to medic's. If so, they may have revitalized the brain enough to make use of some primitive functions.

Bastards.

Red medic suddenly let out a cry of pain, and without turning around I knew what had happened. Medic had attacked him. I heard a thump, and then a hissing breath that rattled and shook. I slowly twisted my head to stare into medic's cold, dead eyes. Red medic lay on the ground at his feet, a massive bruise on his forehead. His right shoulder had also been crushed in, and it was a nasty mess of pearly white bone and sinew.

I wasn't really sure what to do, and so, I cloaked. Following thousand-year-old instinct to hide when encountering a stronger force, I turned myself invisible.

That really did not work.

Invisible with anyone else, I may have escaped notice, but this android/medic thing's head spun to me instantly with a speed no human neck would have managed without breaking. He stared right at me, and I knew he saw me. He vanished, a blur, and quite suddenly, he was standing right in front of me. All that told me he'd actually walked and not teleported was the dark red footprint on the ground. His boots were covered in the blood of my teammates. Not a nice thought. He leaned in slightly, and I smelled a metallic alcohol smell come from his mouth. His expression was blank, emotionless, inhuman. Quite suddenly, his left hand was drawn back in a draw, and I was sure medic wasn't in his own head right now. Medic was right handed, and although he had minor left handed ability, he admitted he never used his left hand.

The hand I thought of now swung towards me in a slow, halting arc. What was wrong with him?

I held up a hand and grabbed the fist. It trembled in my hands. Now I'll tell you I am trained in close combat and various forms of martial arts.

Against medic, I was quite sure it didn't matter.

I had to use this training in the end, because medic began attacking me, arms a blur in overhead chops and punches. His legs occasionally swung in scything kicks that would likely have crippled me. Amazingly, perhaps by some effect of the syringe's chemicals or by virtue of desperation, I began countering and paring his blows. My own hand shot up to block an uppercut, and then I kicked him in the stomach. He staggered back a foot or two, torn lab coat swinging about. I saw the tattoo thirteen on his chest and wondered at its presence. Before I could think too much about it, medic was on the offensive again, his arms hacking at me in thrusts that would no doubt shatter all my bones and break everything they hit.

It was all I could do to stay alive.

Punch, kick, block, hit him with a punch, and all these other things. Medic seemed to have limitless strength, which made sense since all the wires and metal on him seemed to control him. However, when I was on the verge of collapse, he suddenly stumbled backwards, chest suddenly heaving and forehead matted with sweat that had not been there moments before.

I might have described medic's appearance then, but you really had to be there to see. It was also incredibly sad to see him right then, because his face looked so normal right then. There was the hint of emotion in his expression. To be clearer, his hands were on his knees, and his eyes were rolled up in their sockets to stare at me. A grim, sorry expression was plastered on his face, and his mouth set in a thin slit.

Then, he let out a guttural scream of anger and beastly unintelligence and simply lunged, hands set in claws and slashing at me. Quite suddenly, he halted in mid-air and collapsed on the floor, still. I wasn't about to celebrate, and good thing too, for he sat up and managed to struggle to his feet. A look of intense sorrow was etched into his face, and that, _right then_, was medic, in his own self.

He opened his mouth, and a harsh whisper came out. "…Trourg. I am attacking you. I don't vant to. Yet, my body vill not due vhat I vant it too." He coughed, and then gasped out. "I'm sorry." What good did that do, especially since he was now throwing punches at me, which I barely dodged! However, he threw me a hint. "Sapper…."

I could use my sapper on medic?

Suddenly, I didn't want to use it, since it would severe whatever was left of medic on this world. Then, he attacked me. The iron glint in his eyes was no longer mindless. He was going to force me to kill what had been brought back.

AN: About the presence of a miniature half-chapter, I needed to gather my thoughts. My story has been a bit ragged, so I need to do some character checks. (On my own characters. I feel so ridiculous.) I also need to do some minor revisions on the older chapters, but I'll get the next chapter as soon as I can, I promise.


	15. Chapter 15: Sold!

"I can't believe zhey'd turn my own invention against me."

"Huh?" I asked. I was not paying much attention to medic, especially since medic was throwing rapid punches and deadly, sweeping kicks that would break my legs.

Medic laughed somberly and threw a quick uppercut that smacked my chin. "I invented zhis reanimation device. Or razher, zhe device in my lab." He looked thoughtful as he kicked at my shins. "I knew I should have locked up zhe lab."

Panting, I gasped out between breaths and dodges, "You…made this thing?"

"Are you surprised?" medic asked mildly. He lunged forward to tackle me and I rolled aside. "Ich bin ein damon doktor." (AN: I have limited knowledge of German, and I typed that from memory. Sorry if it's grammatically incorrect.)

"Well," I said. "People have been trying to discover the secret of immortality for ages, but then, you always manage things nobody else has." While I was talking, medic socked my shoulder. "OW!"

"Sorry. I'm not really in control of my body at the moment," medic said cheerfully.

"But there's a hole in your head!" I said, narrowly avoiding another uppercut.

"Well, I'd explain, but I'm going to end up killing you if you don't use zhe sapper now," medic grumbled. "I may be somevhat veak, but my limbs have been mechanically altered, so hurry up and use zhe sapper."

I affected not to hear, and retreated, hoping to shoot one of his tendons or somesuch and disable him. No such luck, as medic dashed towards me in mad charge. He gritted his teeth. "Fine, if I tell you zhe story as quickly as is possible, vill you use zhe sapper?"

Obviously, I wouldn't, but I said, "Oui."

"You're lying," medic said amicably, "but okay zhen. Vhatever." He jabbed at me with his elbow. "Zhe device vorks like zhis. As long as zhe part of zhe brain zhat holds memory is intact, along vith some ozher parts, zhen I can be reanimated. Vone of zhe problems of reanimation is how to restore dead brain cells. I have managed it, but…."

"But what?" I asked, jumping back and dodging a rapid quick.

"None of the other flesh areas are rejuvenated. Zhe metal parts in my skin control motor movement."

"But if you are alive, why are you attacking me?"

Medic shook his head as he attacked me again. "No, I am not alive. I have some memory, but I am little more than a corpse being moved by wires. Anything I'm saying right now is zhe result of chemical action vorking off of my memories. At any rate, someone controls me from a control panel, and it also uses my memories. If, for example, you had locked me up since birth and never let me see someone fight, I wouldn't be fighting you right now."

"A shame," I grumbled. Then medic's right hand slammed into the side of my head. "God damn! Can't you control yourself?!"

"Nien, the device is necessary for life support, and so it also has complete control over my limbs."

"Why did you even invent it in the first place?!" I growled. I leapt backwards, dodging another punch. Then I realized I was backed up against a wall. "Oh, merde."

The last thing I saw was medic's fist flying towards my head.

Not a nice view.

**-1 Hour Later (I THINK)-**

I woke up. Wow.

For one thing, nothing hurt.

For another thing, medic was lying against the far wall, sparking and bleeding. He did not move at all.

The only other person awake was sniper, who stood holding his kukri gingerly at arm's length. When he saw I was awake he laughed. "So the chemical stuff did work."

"What…what did you do?" I asked, staring at medic's mutilated corpse.

Sniper sighed. "Bloody hard to kill him, y'know mate? 'Cept he was attacking me and all, so oi cut open his chest." Sniper pointed a finger at the blood pooling around medic. "Bloody near took my head off, he did. I think oi moight be dreamin'. Dead people don't come back aloive."

"You are not dreaming," I said. I stood, wincing as pain shot through my legs and chest. "That was real. Very real." I looked around at the others, who were also coming to. Engineer was up first, and moments after waking up, was by medic's corpse, rooting through the wires on medic's chest. "What are you doing, laborer?"

Engineer ripped a small black box out of medic's chest cavity. There should have been a heart there, I reflected. "Ah'm looking around at how the hell they had medic walking around and attackin' us when he had a hole through his head!" He tossed aside the black box, muttering, "Just a battery."

The other stirred, and with a jolt I remembered that red medic had been severely injured. Yet, when I turned to him he looked whole, healthy, and, well, intact. "Are you okay, docteur?"

He stretched, and glanced down at himself. "Alive, Herr Spy, I am alive."

Engineer was causing rather disturbing sounds as he tore wires from medic's chest. "Dude, engie," scout said, rubbing his own forehead. "That's disgusting. Da' hell are you doing?"

Engineer held up a small glass orb that looked to have sat where the left lung should have been. "Ah-HA!" He read tiny words printed on the side. "'Reanimation orb'. What the hell is this?"

A loud voice came on over the speakers right then. Damn. I forgot we'd been grabbed by strange men in suits. Hmm. "Why…why the hell are you still alive?! What did you do to the robot?!"

I looked up at the speaker on the ceiling. I smirked. "Je sues de 'sole. My apologies. Our bushman didn't like the reanimated medic."

Sniper frowned, and glanced at the doorway. It was still sealed, but there were scorch marks all over it now. "Lookit wot happened over there, mates," he murmured in an undertone.

"What 'appened?"

"Woile medic was foightin' earlier, he threw some kinda grenade. It scorched the door there."

I frowned. "Not powerful enough though. The door still stands. Quite firmly too."

"Naw, it shook, I tell you." Sniper looked over at engie. "Hey, cattle driver! See if ya can find any weapons on the doc!"

"'Cattle driver'?" I said, bemused. "That's a new one. I must remember it."

"He's from Texas," Sniper said mildly.

Engineer swore and shook his head as he saw something. "What is it engineer?" I asked.

Engineer turned to me with a confused expression. "This isn't medic."

"Huh?" I stared at him. "What do you mean, it's not medic?"

Engineer pointed to medic's head. "C'mere and have a look."

I frowned, and went over cautiously. The back of medic's head was covered in wires, but engineer had removed some. The inside of medic's head was…hollow? "What the 'eck is this?"

Engineer prodded a small red clump. "This stuff ain't flesh, I tell you. Also, none of what he said could've been that way without a brain. This is wrong, somehow. Ah can't get around to what happened here, but whatever attacked us wasn't medic. Ah don't even think it was his body! Look here!" Engineer pointed to a series of stitches along the side of medic's face. "Some kind of mask or surgery. Mebbe it was all machine, mebbe it was another guy with some machinery in him. But this ain't doc."

I poked the hair. "This is real hair. I mean, it looks real."

Sniper watched us from his original spots. "This is great and all, but we have to figure out how to get out. " He paused as crackling came from the speakers. "Hey, let's listen to bozo."

"Right…for some reason, I'm supposed to let….to let….to let you go." His voice shook over the speakers. "Uh…so…you can go." The voice trailed off, until we heard a different voice growl. "Juan, hang up you idiot."

The door rumbled open back into the empty hallway. All of us were silent, and then we dashed towards the doorway, as though it might be a trick. None of the guards stopped us as we grabbed our belongings and were soon outside. "Well," scout said, panting. "I thought dat' we might hafta kill someone and fight our way out, but this works too."

Our van was parked outside, with two men standing by. They raised their guns, but then heard something in their earpieces and paused. Then, they left silently. I followed them with my eyes until they were fully out of sight and then hopped into the van along with the others. Engineer didn't even speak, he just stepped on the gas and rocketed us out of there at top speed. He must have really boosted the van, because I felt my skin pressing back into my skull.

I'm not sure where we ended up, but engineer must have known where he was going because we ended up at a large abandoned mansion. "Oh, good," I grumbled. "Now my life really is like an escape movie. When's one of us going to turn traitor and sell us to the enemy?"

"You best be jokin', pardner," engineer muttered, unlocking the doors and rushing out of the van.

Red medic had been silent, and now he said, "Somezhing is wrong."

"Oui, my life," I said absent mindedly. I picked up my suitcase and threw the van doors wide. "So laborer, whose mansion is this?"

Before engineer answered, red medic cut in. "Don't you think it _suspicious_ zhat your medic has so many enemies, vhen he was supposedly an unknown doctor before? Why is there some kind of robot of him attacking us?"

"Yer being paranoid doc!" scout said, pushing past to look up at the mansion.

Red medic continued to mutter darkly to himself as he walked with us towards the mansion. Inside, which was surprisingly clean and intact. Inside we dumped down our stuff and were beckoned into the kitchen by engineer. "Alright, on doc's map, this place is labeled 'safe house'." He held up the map and sighed. "The problem is, something's wrong with his map. I can't figure out where exactly we are, since there are no exact location names. Ah didn't think to ask either."

I reached for a cigarette and found none. "Erk-!"

"Wot's wrong mate?" Sniper asked curiously.

"I-I am out of cigarettes."

Sniper snorted. "So? You're not murdering your lungs for ten minutes. Wotever."

That night, we all found separate rooms and slept like logs. It did take a while for some of us to sleep, since the mansion was rather disturbing and the floorboards creaked ominously.

The next morning I was up before the others…or so I thought so. Engineer and scout were in the kitchen. Curious, I remained cloaked and watched.

Engineer was working on something. It resembled a sentry, but was slightly larger. Engineer glanced at a blueprint and said to scout, "Scout, pass me my wrench. The one that says 'jag'."

Scout opened the toolbox and took out a wrench. "Okay, sure. Y'know, your wrench-"

Engineer muttered a curse and said, "Wrench, scout, wrench!"

"Okay, okay, but I'm just sayi-"

"Scout, **wrench!**"

"Jeez, so pushy. Really, it's just that your toolbox-"

"**SCOUT! GIVE ME THE WRENCH YOU TWITCHY SON OF A JACKASS!**" engineer screamed, throwing a fork at scout. Where did he get that? Oh yeah, this is a kitchen.

Scout hurriedly tossed the wrench, but in his haste the wrench smashed into engineer's forehead, and engineer wasn't wearing his helmet. Ow.

"YOU-!"

I stepped in and grabbed engineer's hand before he could punch scout's brain out. He probably could, you know. "Calm down, engineer. Scout, don't throw things you shouldn't throw. Unless it's at robots."

Scout shrugged, and I saw veins bugle in engineer's neck. "YOU LI-!"

I clamped a hand over engineer's mouth. "Er, laborer, what were you working on?"

Engineer smiled grimly. "An advanced sentry. I'm modifying the original sentry movements."

"But, why? We're away from Mann Co, we have money, we can go as far away as we want!" I said. "What's the danger? Or is that your hobby? Tinkering?"

Engineer shook his head. "Had a look outside the window yet, pardner? You'd best do so then."

Slightly confused, I looked at scout, who gestured towards the kitchen window. I headed over and looked out into the inky dark morning. Outside, a mass of robots stood. "What the?"

Engineer laughed darkly. "Looks great doesn't it. All we need is the sunrise."

"What…what are they doing 'ere?!"

Red medic appeared in the doorway. "It's obvious. Zhey vant to kill us. You are, as zhey say, dumber zhen a bear wizhout a brain."

"Do they really say that?"

"No. I made that up just now."

Red medic reminds me a lot of blue medic or the other blue team members. Hmm.

I was still slightly confused. "Why don't the robots attack, if they really are here to kill us? A lot of us are still asleep, and there are so many of them." I paused, collecting my thoughts. "And why are they 'ere anyway?"

Red medic had no answer for this, and seemed content to ignore me and stare over my shoulder at the rows of robots. All of them stood silently in the dark, eyes glowing. It was an indescribably eerie sight. The proverbial chill ran down my spine. Then, I felt a real chill on the nape of my neck. "GAH!" I staggered back, crashing into someone, who let out an "oof!" and then broke into laughter. Hang on…I recognize that laugh. "SCOOUUT!"

"S-Sorry!" More laughter. "Ya just looked so tense, so I couldn't help it, ya' know? 'Sides! It was just a puff of air."

"No," I said irritably, "I do not 'know'. You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Everyone says that," scout said dismissively. "So, whadda we do about the robots?"

Still annoyed, I was inclined to offer more negative suggestions. "I have an idea! Why don't we tie you to a pole and offer you to them as a peacemaking gift! Then they might not attack us! Or we could cook you alive and offer the meat to them. Worst case we spill your blood on them. It might short-circuit their machinery."

Scout looked mildly hurt, and engineer frowned. "Now, spah, you don' hafta talk like that. Be serious now."

Red medic broke in. "Zhe robots…zhey are moving."

"Huh?" Scout and engineer rushed to the window, and then we saw them milling around in confusion. Some robots simply collapsed, sparking, and we saw something sticking out of their heads and chests. One robot charged at something amidst the mechanical army and flew back, on fire. There was an explosion that shook the mansion gates (The mansion has a metal fence surrounding it with spiked top. The robots were just outside.) and caused us to cover our ears as more explosions caused a violent racket. There were burst of flame among the robots, and little balls of explosive light.

"Someone out there is doing a mighty fine job of cleaning up those bots," engineer said appreciatively. Then he raised an eyebrow. "But ah can't see the man."

Red medic adjusted his glasses and squinted at the robots. "Zhey appear to simply be exploding, but I can't really see clearly." He took out a small pair of binoculars. Why does a medic have binoculars? "Hmm. Zhere is something, or someone, moving amongst zhe machines, but it is just a hazy blur." He squinted, causing his brow to furrow. "Zhere…zhere is a light bobbing amongst zhe robots. Vhat is zhat, I vonder?" He rubbed his glasses while we all glanced at each other. What exactly was going on? Who would be on our side in this nightmarish situation? I pounded my forehead in frustration. I thought I left all my ptoblems behind at Mann Co.! They seem to be tagging along for the ride!

Red medic put away his binoculars and sighed. "Zhe fighting has stopped. Zhe robots have calmed down."

I glanced out the window at the rows of robots. "Do you think they killed whoever it was?"

The red medic shook his head. "Nein. Zhe blur just suddenly stopped. I zhink I saw a lab coat, and zhen it vas gone. Just-poof." He hung his head helplessly. "So now ve are back to dealing vith zhe evil robots zhat vant to kill us."

I sat down in a chair and drummed my fingers on the table. "I still don't get why they don't attack now."

"Who wants t' attack us?" a sleepy sniper said from the doorway. I looked over in faint surprise.

"Oh," I said. "You're awake."

"Bloody hell, _yes_ I'm awake! With all that racket and explosion such, I'd better be, or summin's wrong with my ears!" he said grumpily. He's usually rather irritable without his morning coffee. I was doing rather well myself, considering I'd not had a cigarette in a day. Speaking of which, if I don't get one soon, I am going to keel over and die.

Perhaps I should quit.

Engineer was speaking now. "We can't stay here forever. There aren't that many food rations in here. There is electricity and water, but if those robots stay there for a week or so, we're gonna die or summat."

**"LET ME IN GODDAMIT!"**

I think my soul just flew out of my body.

By the looks of everyone around me, that loud voice startled them about as much as they startled me. Engineer, who always had a cool head, rushed to the door and looked out through a viewing slot. "SOLLY?!"

We all jumped again. Soldier?

We rushed to the door, and indeed, blue soldier tumbled in, rain soaked (Without our noticing, a drizzle had started up outside.) and red-eyed. "Took you long enough, maggots!" Something was off with his voice, and he walked with an awkward, uneven gate, but that was soldier indeed. "Were you going to let your fellow soldier die from all those robots?"

"Were you the one who started blowing up robots?" engineer asked, waving solly in and shutting the door.

Soldier snorted. "Of course it was me! Who else is bloody out there?!" He held up a grenade. "Threw some of these at those metal commies and sent them to robot hell!"

Red medic was squinting at soldier. "You don't seem like the blue soldier. Did the blue soldier have brown hair?"

Come to think at it, I couldn't remember, but really, red medic was being unreasonable. Our teammate stumbles in out of the cold, and what do we do? We're sure as hell not going to turn him out. "Oh, be quiet docteur. We're not about to turn our teammate out."

Red medic though, as suspicious as ever, persisted. "He was a blur out there! And I saw a lab coat! He can't move that fast anyway!"

Scout shrugged. "You thought ya' saw. Ya' might not have, doc."

Engineer nodded. "You're too paranoid, doc. Just calm down." He turned to soldier. "Sorry about that. Let's just go in."

Come to think of it, there was something odd about soldier. His eyes never focused on any of us, as though he was not actually using them to see. They remained glazed, staring in one corner of his eye. I could see it since he wasn't wearing his helmet, but his face looked close enough to soldier. Ah well, I haven't seen him in a few days, and I never paid much attention to detail, so he must have looked this way before. "How did you find us?"

Soldier glanced over, his eyes finally shifting. He said nothing for a moment, and all eyes turned to him. He slowly opened his mouth, and then said, "I got directions." That was it. With that blunt statement, he pushed past engineer and went into the kitchen. "Now excuse me ladies, I need a new helmet!"

We glanced at each other, and then followed him. I could tell medic was glaring at us with a frustrated look, but he could steam about nothing by himself. Maybe we shouldn't have brought him. He's annoying. Scout was buzzing around soldier, asking him questions and being a pest. Soldier seemed to be ignoring him, strange for the man, and also, he didn't exactly seem to be ignoring him. His eyes were unfocused again, and he walked with a hobbling gait. What was wrong with him? He must just be tired.

Red medic trailed us into the kitchen and watched sourly as soldier sat down. We offered him food, but he violently refused it. Why didn't he want to eat? I decided to go back to my theory from just now. He must be simply tired.

Soldier cleared his throat and said, "I've got some information for you."

"Oh?" sniper said. "And wot's that information?"

I leaned forward as soldier put on a serious face. "Those robots, I managed to blast my way in, but the robots are going to attack us tomorrow morning."

"Then why the hell did you come in here?! You'll die too!" sniper said.

Engineer nodded. "Couldn't you have gone for help or something instead? By the way, how many robots do you think were out there?"

Soldier looked hesitant, and I saw his head tilt as though he were listening for something. "I'd guess four hundred? Maybe five. A lot, I guess."

Engineer nodded. "Anyway, let's have you rest, soldier. You must be exhausted."

"Thanks, engie," soldier said, getting up and walking out.

I went into the corridor, heading towards the door, but then red medic grabbed my arm. "Herr Spy! You can't let your soldier stay!"

I glared at him. "I've already told you-"

"Please!" he said. "Just listen." I saw a bead of sweat on his forehead, and could tell he was desperate. I'd best humor him.

"Okay, say it."

Red medic glanced back at the kitchen nervously. "Look, just listen to reason please! Your soldier doesn't act zhat vay! He vas vay too nice, vay too-too-too intelligent! And zhen!" he said as I opened my mouth to interrupt. "He vas too hesitant. Zhis is wrong! First ve are attacked by zhe dead blue medic, zhen ve are followed by robots, and zhen your soldier, who ve left at zhe base vith heavy and demo, shows up! And now, your soldier's hair color changed!"

"What would you know of his hair color?" I asked brusquely. "You're not even on blue team!"

A vein pulsed on his head. "I've fought him a hundred times! He has black hair, not brown!"

"I don't think you remember right. He definitely looks like soldier. And for the other things, like I said, 'e's just tired!"

Red medic clenched and unclenched his teeth. "Oh, of course he looks like soldier! They've found near twins for years! Of course he looks similar! You are impossible! Zhere is somzhing wrong happening, and you von't listen! Fine! But vhen somezhing comes and kills you, don't say I didn't varn you!"

He stormed off, lab coat flapping. I watched as he left, feeling mildly annoyed. The man was being paranoid to a great extent. Why was he so angry? He needs to take anger management courses.

I yawned, and glanced at a clock. Seven in the morning already? Time flies when your life is in danger. Or was it 'time flies when you're having fun'? Oh whatever. Same thing

Making my way to the door again, I reflected that we shouldn't have brought red medic. He was a red, after all. Admittedly, he'd seemed nice enough, but now he was just plain irritating.

I stared out the window beside the door into the pouring rain. It was strangely peaceful, listening to the rain patter against the glass, and I saw the glass frost up a little at the edges. I was actually lulled to sleep, and woke up five minutes later on the floor with scout's shoe on my chest. "Yo! Snake guy! If you're gonna sleep, sleep in a bed or something!" I shoved his foot aside and sat up groggily.

"Huh…?"

"You were asleep on the floor, dumbass," scout said.

"What are you so irritated about," I asked, standing up and stretching.

Scout looked depressed. "I don't know. Something just feels wrong."

I grinned. "Well that tells me a lot, scout. You should be a college professor. Professor Von Fail-Student."

Scout shrugged morosely. "Sorry. I just don't know. Something's wrong, but I can't tell what. I mean, sure it's strange. I thought we were free, but now, once we're free, robots are going to kill us all. Dat's not good."

"You think, boy?" I said sarcastically. I looked out the window again. The robots were, as far as I could tell, in the exact same positions. Then again, they _were_ robots. I sighed heavily. "Well, you know, Dean," I grinned when scout started at my use of his name. "We're not in Mann Co. anymore."

"I know," he said. "I'm just used to being called 'scout', so yeah."

I nodded. "Anyway, I thought escaping Mann Co. would be great, but I do sort of feel, well," I paused, searching for the right word. "Hollow." I saw scout blink and stare at me blankly, so I elaborated. "Being at Mann Co., even if my teammates were read, was better than my loner life in my dead parents' house." I chuckled darkly. "Not that it matters now. It would seem robots are going to kill me tomorrow morning."

"About that," scout said uncomfortably. "How do you think solly knew they were attacking? And how do ya' suppose he got here?"

I glared at him. "Oh no, don't you start. First red medic has paranoid bouts, and now you!"

"I'm not talking about red doc. I don't care about him. I'm just asking you," scout said quickly.

"Alright," I said, still watching him for any odd reaction. "My guess is soldier overheard something. That way, 'e must 'ave picked up the attack time. As for how he got here, maybe he simply escaped and followed direction from people we passed." Based on scout's look, I could tell he was accepting everything I said to be ironclad fact, even if it was merely a hunch. Staring at his face, a memory came unbidden into my mind, and I remembered my first day.

_The train suddenly ground to a halt, and I had to grab onto a metal bar jutting out of the wall to stay standing. There was a screeching noise as the train's brakes fought for traction on the metal. Finally, all movement ceased._

_I shoved open the door and leapt off eagerly. I had no wish to hang around these men longer than necessary, especially since they were my enemies now._

_I had been told I needed to bring virtually nothing, so I had no luggage. I saw a blue, battered sign with an arrow, directing me towards a massive, grey-blue compound._

_A crept into the doors. Warily, I snuck down the corridors. Was there going to be someone to greet me?_

_"WHO ARE YOU?!"_

_A loud voice echoed about, nearly stopping my heart. I didn't get to answer, because something hit my head, hard, and everything went black._

Ah yes, my first encounter with this boy had been rather annoying. Looking at him now, I found it difficult to believe that he was technically 24. He still looked like a teenager, or college student. Then again, medic, the doctor who caused miracles, had stopped our aging, or so it seemed. Apparently, we were now aging from our original joining times. Scout really didn't look 24 though. I think he must be lying about his age or something. Anyhow, I hope he says nothing more about soldier. I've had enough paranoid mutterings for the rest of my life.

Scout accepted my theory and played my shadow. He followed me around as I explored the mansion, finding dusty rooms and moldy old furniture. I started from the ground floor, and footsteps muffled on the plush carpet, I walked around, peeking into rooms and rummaging through drawers. For the most part, we simply found guest rooms with dusty-smelling furniture and spider webs. The main rooms had been kept clean and intact. These, evidently, had not.

Scout opened a dresser in one room and was met with a swarm of insects and spiders. "AH! HOLY FU-!" I clamped a hand over his mouth, not particularly because I cared about him swearing, but because I heard a crunching noise. My head swiveled on my neck, searching for the source of the sound. Then, my eyes settled on a small animal skull, which scout had stepped on. "Huh?"

I bent down and picked up the tiny skull. It was maybe a rat skull. Scout, wiping his mouth angrily, said, "What was that for?! You freaking hand tastes like cigarettes!"

I looked down at my right palm and saw teeth marks. Funny. I hadn't felt them at first. Now I did though, and I gritted my teeth as my hand throbbed. "You…you did not have to _bite_ me."

His eyes flashed dangerously. That boy is a little more deadly than his teenage appearance implies. "Ya' put your hand over my mouth. So I bit it."

"What-that-that doesn't even make sense!" I said indignantly.

"Yes it does."

"No it doesn't!" A memory stirred somewhere in my head. Something about us arguing. Where do I remember that from?

"Really, you two?" an Australian voice grumbled. Ah, yes, that's what I was remembering. Sniper's voice commenting on our arguing. I suddenly wished simply to stay here amongst my teammates. On the other hand, there was the somewhat important matter of the robots trying to kill us.

Sniper looked past me out the window. The room we were in had a view out into the yard, where machines were visible just beyond the fence "Buggers aren't going to leave are they? Robot wankers."

Scout shut the dresser and stamped on an unruly spider that crawled towards him. "I kinda wonder, snipes, why don't the robots attack now?"

"Wot?" sniper asked absentmindedly. I now noticed he wielded a sniper rifle.

"Eh, what are you doing?"

"Ain't it obvious mate? I'm cleaning up some of the mechanical buggers."

"Will shooting their heads really work?" I asked. I knew little about the robots, but by the way they had voices and imitated us, I'd say there were a lot of unnecessary parts in it. "Would a robot need it's head to keep going?"

Sniper grinned. "Let's foind out!" He swung his rifle down and threw open the window. Actually, those words portray him gracefully grabbing the handle and throwing it open. In reality, the metal was warped and rusted, and he struggled with it for a minute before yanking it up. Now he poked his rifle's barrel out to aim. I looked cautiously out, but spotted no sniper robots. At least there wouldn't be much in the way of return fire.

I followed the blue dot's progress with my eyes, and saw it stop on a medic robot. Now I turned to see sniper's finger tighten on the trigger, and then, the shot flew.

It would rather interesting to watch the bullet in slow motion, but as it was, I simply say a flash of light, and then the medic robot crumples, a hole in its head. "So!" sniper said happily. "The damned bots die if you shoot them in the brain!"

"They probably don't have brains," I sad, but I was impressed. "Nice shot, by the way, bushman."

He laughed. "Nothing like your little spy guns, eh?"

I sensed a rather negative side to his words, but I understood. Snipers and spys had a rivalry that was unspoken, unexplained. It just _was_, and even if we were on the same team, we spent most of the time trying to figure out how to kill each other's counterparts.

I grabbed my own revolver and took aim at the robots. They hadn't even stirred when one of their number fell, and I took careful aim. Revolvers, like just about every other gun, did not shoot perfectly straight. However, a decent shot can still manage to fire into something's head. I chose my target, a slightly rusted medic robot. It was the one that had stood by the one just shot down.

I fired, and sniper's jaw fell as the bullet whizzed and struck the robot dead on, literally between the eyes. "Holy dooley!"

I should take a job as sniper.

"Am I good, or am I good?" I asked with a snicker.

Sniper glared at me. "Luck!" he spluttered. "That wos luck!"

"You keep telling yourself that," I said. I put my revolver away and smiled. "I should replace you."

"Shut up." Our sniper is rather competitive. He aimed his rifle out again, and squinted through the scope. He chose another target, a robot scout, but in his haste to shoot another one, he missed, instead hitting another robot medic, which collapsed in a heap of metal. "I meant to do that," he said angrily as me and scout laughed.

"Poor medics," I said, still laughing.

"What are you three doing?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

We turned to face a dark-haired young man in a doorway. "Who are you?!" all three of us said simultaneously.

Then, silence.

I frowned. His face was familiar. I squinted, taking in the angular face and hair in a ponytail. "OH!" I exclaimed, causing everone to jump. "Pyro!"

He sighed. "I should leave my mask off more often." I saw him look somewhat, well, sad, so I hurried to apologize.

"Sorry! It's just I'm not used to hearing…or seeing you."

Sniper was more blunt. "Sorry. I couldn't remember your face, mate."

"Yeah," pyro said gloomily. "And-"

"HOLY SHIT!" scout suddenly screamed. I swear my heart stopped for a moment. I've been scared enough times today!

"Wha-?" and then sniper stopped too. "HOLY-!"

Red medic staggered in, bleeding from about a million cuts. Blood splattered on the expensive carpet, and with repulsion, I saw that his face had been gouged into a bloody mess on the left side. His glasses were cracked, and a phantom memory appeared before my eyes.

Medic, broken, bleeding, lying against the wall. Burn marks all over his back.

"What happened?!" pyro exclaimed, bending down and pushing red medic into lying position.

A bubble of blood popped on red medic's lips. Red trailed down his chin. "So-Sold…."

That was the last word he ever said. A shame. It wasn't even a complete word, unless he was an auctioneer who just sold something.

**AN: I'M BAAAAAACK!**


	16. Chapter 16: Not Quite Escaped

I wouldn't want to call myself naïve, really, but that's what I should. However, at the time, as red medic became a corpse, I was truly naïve. For a start, "sold…" should have been a hint. Honestly, I may have guessed it was the soldier that was the cause of the problems. As it was, I never noticed, and pyro, scout, and sniper did not either. (SEE! They didn't realize it either! Hmph!) Red medic's death was met with general hullabaloo. What a strange word, hullabaloo. Anyway, soldier seemed the least stricken.

"He was a red," the American explained calmly. "Reds are reds, and not my friends."

I was somewhat sad, since even though he was paranoid and overtly suspicious, he was a decent person at least. That day really was interesting, so many medic robots becoming our targets, and red medic dying. Sniper decided to bury the body outside, especially since the robots didn't seem to be attacking yet. The rest of us took engineer's lead and began searching the mansion for what may have killed him. I thought it might be some trap set a long time ago. Scout theorized a crazy hobo lived in the attic, brandishing a knife at anyone who came close. This was dispelled when engineer explained that there _was_ no attic in the mansion. Instead, the large hollow in the roof was filled with machinery such as air conditioning system and ventilation shafts.

As if there would be a crazy hobo.

Wait, medic arranged this mansion, didn't he?

…

I'm going to need to watch out for crazy hobos.

As we searched the rooms, sniper and I decided to follow the blood trail. The other simply searched other rooms for anything that looked odd or dangerous. Soldier and pyro took up talking about how to hold up the robot attack tomorrow morning. It still seemed like a dream-like event to me. Not a good dream. Like a nightmare.

The following the blood trail turned out to be rather creepy, since red medic had apparently come from his room. For his room, he'd chosen a high up one amidst a dark, dusty corridor. Did red medic have an affinity for dark places?

We ended up going up a few flights of stairs, following the bloody streak. Where exactly did medic get injured? We were followed the dark crimson stains (still disturbingly fresh) through darkened corridors until we found the room. It had a large, ornate door, and it seemed medic had chosen a large room for himself. The door was slightly ajar, and I saw two bloody imprints in the gap. They looked vaguely like knees had been dragged through there. Medic probably had to crawl out.

"A roight bloody mess, it is," sniper muttered. He heaved open the door and I gagged. From inside wafted the sour stench of iron, and death. A bloody pool sat in the middle of the room, staining the expensive Victorian carpet. There were scuff marks. A struggle had taken place here. "Y'know, spoi, I think I should've left this to someone else."

"Oui," I mumbled, staring at the bloody floor. The curtains on the opposite window were in tatters, as though someone had slashed them with a knife. I saw a bloody footprint in front of it. "Sniper…do you think the attacker left out the window?"

Sniper rushed over and brushed aside the mangled curtains. Outside, there was a small balcony that overlooked the backyard. I leaned back from the edge; it was quite a height. There was some more bloody splatters on the ground there. They looked faint on one side, as though someone had hastily tried to wipe the blood away. Sniper grimaced. "Well our mystery attacker went this way, Oi'd guess, unless doc fancied a look at the backyard before he doid."

I shook my head. "How did he leave? Fly? This is quite a drop." I chanced a look over the edge and rapidly drew my head back as the great height made me dizzy. "Quiiiite a drop."

Sniper leaned out and looked about. "There's one level above here." He glanced down and looked about. "I don't think he went in any of those windows. They're sealed shut toight-loike."

"'ow can you tell?" I asked. I looked down at the windows below. "He could have just jumped in and shut the window."

"Look closely, mate." Sniper gestured towards the nearest window. "The windows all around this level are barred from outside. How'd he close it from inside, huh? He'd have to have gone to a much lower level. There's the chance he had a rope, though."

Soldier came in. "What are you two ladies looking at?"

Sniper turned around and shrugged. "We're guessing whoever mangled the doc left through this window. But where the hell did he go?"

I stood silently, a memory fighting to gain purchase in my mind. Soldier's presence triggered a memory I could barely bring to the fore. What was it? _What was it?_

Meanwhile, soldier had shut the door and strode over to the balcony. "The bastard must have jumped."

Sniper rolled his eyes. "Only you would do that."

Soldier bared his teeth. "NO! ANY DECENT SOLDIER WHO'S NOT AN ARROGANT COWARD WOULD!"

"Loike I said. Only you would."

Sniper and soldier began screaming at each other, and I stared absently at soldier's back. There was a connection to be made somewhere. But what was it?! Synapses fired in my brain, and I continued to ponder my own thoughts as soldier eventually threw up his arms in exasperation and left. "Henh." Sniper laughed slightly. "That helmet doesn't make 'im any smarter."

A piece of the puzzle clicked into place. 'Sold', red medic had said. It was obvious! Soldier was the word! But what did he mean, referring to soldier? Also, I couldn't be sure he was actually talking about soldier, could I?

Still worrying about it and brooding, I unconsciously followed sniper out. I was still following him with my eyes half-closed and thinking when he said, "Uh…spoi? Why are ya followin' me into the bathroom?"

That was probably one of the most embarrassing moments I've ever experienced.

Once I'd managed to convince sniper I wasn't really trying to follow him, I left, red-faced and still worried about red medic's last words…or rather, word.

I sat down on the sofa and didn't even notice when the sun began to set and the others gathered in the kitchen. At some point, I dozed off (second time today. I should start eating more sugar.) and didn't wake until someone began poking me with a fork. It's really not that difficult to guess who it was.

"Scout," I said without opening my eyes. "Stop, or I'll cut out your throat."

"Don't hafta be so nasty, snake guy," scout grumbled. The fork left, and I turned to see scout chewing on something and waving a fork around.

"What are you eating?" I asked, rubbing sleep from my eyes. Then I saw a string of spaghetti hanging from the side of his mouth. "Oh."

"Engie said to find you, so I found you! Wanna come eat?"

I stood, feeling something pop in my spine. Ow. "Have we decided what to do about the robot attack?"

Scout shook his head as he headed towards the kitchen. "We're gonna wing it."

"That's comforting," I said sarcastically. Scout swallowed his pasta and just gave me a sidelong glance.

"Well," he reasoned. "Too late to do anything about it now."

Scout's reasoning is so dumb it's comforting.

In the kitchen, I found no food left. Scout had sped up and gotten there before me, and was now eating the last of it. When all of us gave him accusing glances, he cringed. "I thought there was more!" Of course you did, scout. Of course you did.

I didn't feel like eating anyway. My stomach rumbled and was quite evidently empty, but I was in no mood to eat. In that hollow area of my stomach, worry coiled, nesting there like a parasite. Something was wrong. But what?

None of us wanted to sleep, despite the fact that by the time we were done chatting, it was nearing midnight. I took an ice-cold shower, gritting my teeth against the freezing chill. I stood in the shower, staring at the water streaming down the paneled walls, thinking. Water coursed down my arms and I stared at my hands, calloused and rough. Something was wrong.

For starters, red medic had been suspicious of something all along. He had been in on the secret Mann Co. workings, where the men were kept until death, like some horrible camp. However, there seemed something even larger going on. Red medic had thought it odd we were attacked by some kind of robot/medic undead thing. Engineer and the rest had mostly forgotten about it, but red medic had remained noticeably alarmed by the thing.

Also, red medic had been very jittery about medic using his medi-gun rays to actually **stop** our aging. That, he had thought, was impossible technology. As I thought this I switched the water to a warmer setting, as I was shivering a considerable amount just then. Now, where was I? Red medic had been awfully bothered by medic's technology and exploits. The whole ride away from Mann Co, he'd been rather disturbed. What was it he'd been worried about? And to think I thought it was just his paranoid ramblings! He knew something, or at least suspected something, and I never bothered to listen. What had I missed, by shunning him? Now he was dead, and could say no more.

Red medic had thought it odd that soldier would stumble out of the cold. Had that something to do with it? It was very strange, you had to admit. He'd somehow followed us miles and miles from Mann Co., knowing nothing of our plan, having no knowledge of where we were headed, and still he ended up here! Now I actually stopped to think about it, it was beyond suspicious. Very obviously something was wrong! How had I not seen it before? I guess I really just didn't think, and the rest of the team, it seemed, had done much the same. What had red medic found out?

My deep thought (very deep. I didn't even notice when my skin began to blister from the hot water.) was interrupted by a pounding on the door. "OI! FRENCHIE! HURRY UP! There's only two working showers, AND SNIPES IS IN THE OTHER ONE SO GET GOING SOLDIER!"

Although my thoughts had mostly been dark ones revolving around soldier, I allowed a small smile to split my worried face. Whether or not that man really was our soldier, he certainly sounded like it. "Okay, okay, I'll hurry up. Why don't you bully sniper until I'm done?"

Soldier swore and stomped away. I turned the shower off and rubbed my burned arms. Ow. I felt boiled (badly, badly burned) skin on my back. I glanced at the knob, which I had accidentally turned to the hottest. I bit back a curse as my skin stung. Or rather, it twisted in absolute, burning agony that flooded my nerves. But that's a little dramatic, so let's say 'stung'.

I tugged on a clean suit. Yes, I sleep in a suit, though usually without the shirt and jacket. Do you have a problem with that?

I left the shower, nearly colliding with soldier, who rocketed into the bathroom as fast as one of his crit rockets. I heard the lock click shut behind me and shrugged. Time to *temporarily* forget thse thoughts of traitors and dark things, or I'll never get to sleep.

It wasn't that difficult to sleep. The only reason I wasn't asleep the moment I touched the bed was because of my hunger, but moments after lying down, I had drifted off into sleep. Too bad I didn't get to enjoy it. I was asleep. Oh wait….

I slept a dreamless night, and woke up rather late. The first thing I noticed was the wall clock stating that it was nearly noon. I wasn't dead, and when I looked out the window, the robots were gone. What the hell?

Downstairs, other voices were audible, arguing, and confused. It would seem the others were awake. I stretched, and tugged on my suit. I adjusted my tie (Have to look sharp. I'm a spy.) and rushed down the stairs towards the kitchen.

All the others were there, save soldier. A buzz of words rose from three mouths.

"What 'appened?' I asked, storming into the room. Pyro appeared behind me, hair sticking up in a strange bedhead. He repeated my question.

Engineer looked absolutely baffled. "Solly's gone missing, and the robots seem to have run away too."

Scout nibbled on a sandwich that greatly resembled one of heavy's sandviches. "We searched da' rooms, but solly's not anywhere."

Sniper sipped coffee tiredly. "Oi had a look-see outside. The robot buggers have run off somewhere, but soldier has too. There's no trace they were ever here, you know? The ground's barely even trampled."

Pyro sat down in a chair and scratched his head. "Do you think the robots are still around here?"

Sniper shook his head. "Oi looked around with moi scope. Not a bot for a mile around." He paused, eyes flickering. "There are, of course, the woods we passed on the way here, but I don't think that's where they are."

I was confused, very confused. Likely it had something to do with my present state of exhaustion. Pyro was saying something, so I tried to refocus.

"We should find soldier."

Sniper frowned. "We already had a look about. He's not here."

"Did you check the basement?"

The three glanced at each other, and then engineer said, "Why in tarnation would he be in the basement, of all gosh darn places?"

I frowned. Soldier would probably be the first to rocket up and talk about war. Now though, he was gone, and the only unsearched place was the basement. "Shall we, gentlemen?"

Scout shrugged. "I'll come."

"You two go along," sniper said dismissively. "He won't be there."

Pyro stood. "I'll come too."

The basement was located near the kitchen, a trapdoor with steps that lead into a large, dark room. I'd gone and had a look in there once, when we first arrived. It had been full of old crates, and some more recently placed Mann Co. crates. I had touched nothing, and returned to the upper area, where there were less spiders and mystery boxes.

Now, we went once again the large wooden trapdoor, and pyro helped heave it open.

We descended the steps, and the first thing we noticed was that the light was on. "Alright," pyro said. "Who left the light on?"

Silence.

Pyro sighed. "Guess he might really be here."

We glanced around, but the massive basement was empty. "There is only one room," I said. "He's not here."

Scout pointed to a large, rectangular imprint on the wall. "Dat could be a door."

I looked at the frame, and saw pyro cock his head. "Well," pyro muttered. "We could try."

Scout dashed forward and slammed into the door. Sadly, doors rarely open inwards, and scout got a bloody nose…or rather, bloody face.

"You alright?" pyro asked mildly. He peeled scout off the wall and set him aside. Pyro gripped the groove in the wall and pulled, but nothing happened. "Okay…guess that'd be too easy."

"'ow do you know it's a door?" I asked.

Pyro shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'm wasting my time." He returned to the rectangle, thinking.

Scout sat up, holding his bleeding noise. "Owowowowowow…."

"Ugh. Pathetic," I grumbled. I helped scout up, and saw his eyes were slightly crossed. "Let's get you back upstairs." I slung his arm around my shoulder and helped him up the steps. Scout's eyes were glazed, and focused on nothing. He may have ran into the door a little harder than was good for him.

Upstairs, engineer and the others were in the kitchen. When they saw scout with a bloody noise, scratches, and a bruise on the side of his face, they leapt up with cries of alarm.

"What happened?"

"Was soldier down there?"

"Did you break your nose?"

I held up a hand to stem the flow of questions. "Scout just ran into a wall."

The nervous tension dissipated into ridiculed silence.

"You…ran into a wall?" sniper asked at last.

"Yeah…." Scout said blearily.

I pushed scout into sitting against the kitchen wall and found an ice pack in the freezer.

"So," I said slowly as scout put ice on his face. "There seems to be a door in basement. Assuming this is like some madman's evil plot, it would lead somewhere."

"Was it there before?"

"Of course! Like it appeared out of nowhere!"

Scout rubbed his forehead. "Gimme a sec and let's go check how firebug's doing."

"'Firebug'? Oh. Pyro."

Scout nodded. "Fire-and well, before we learned he actually had a face, he was like a mysterious insect, ya' know?"

An insect? Insects die on contact with fire. Perhaps it would be unwise to mention that now.

Perhaps ten minutes later (I am an impatient person. I nearly got a stroke waiting for him to be done.) Engineer and sniper seemed content to stay and let us go possibly be killed. They are _so_ chivalrous.

Scout and I rushed into the basement, only to be met with an empty room. "Okay…" scout said. "I'm spooked already. Pyro? Ya there, ya crazy bug?"

Silence.

I went over and examined the footprints in the dust. They weren't much help though, as we'd walked around a lot and made a large mess in the dust. "Maybe 'e went out?" I suggested.

Scout shrugged, and scanned the room. Naturally, his sharp eyes found something. "Wazzat?"

I turned to where he was facing and saw some crates had been shifted aside. On the ground there was some kind of metal lever. "Well," I said. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out what that probably does."

Scout rushed forward and yanked the lever. It slid smoothly into the opposite slot, and the door opened, sinking into the ground. Well, secret rooms, hidden levers. A regular adventure. Unfortunately, reading about an adventure can't get you killed. Real-life can.

I might have tried to stop scout, but it he had already ran into the room, and the door was slowly beginning to shut again. I hopped through, cursing scout's impulsiveness. Scout had already vanished into the gloom when I looked up. "Scout!" I shouted. "Get the 'ell back 'ere!"

I could not even hear scout's footsteps as I walked down the hall. It was dark, of course, the only light being a luminous line that ran along the floor, evidently a path guider. The idea that someone was expecting us disturbed me more than anything. The glowing blue line cast an eerie glow on my feet, and did nothing to help. Instinctively, I pulled out my revolver. I was carrying a diamondback with me, a useful gun if there were engineer's around. It received signals and electromagnetic waves from sappers, which it absorbed to generate static energy in the gun's barrel. The bullets it fire next would be 'charged' with the force…and I'm babbling aren't I?

The walk continued on a straight path for roughly five minutes, during which my feet began to hurt. How much longer?

At last, I entered a large room.

Guess who stood in the middle of the room? It wasn't scout or pyro.

Soldier turned to me with a small grin. "How are you doing, Spy?"

Have you ever literally seen something evil in a grin? Soldier's teeth showed pearly white, with unnaturally sharp canines. He stood on a small podium in the center of the room. Above him, on the ceiling, were wires and tones of machinery. On the opposite wall, scout and pyro lay crumpled. What the hell happened here?

Soldier laughed softly, and his voice changed, to a lower, quieter tone. "Such a shame you got in my way. Those two aren't dead, you know. I just knocked them out. I'll knock you out too, if you bother me."

"Soldier, what the 'ell are you doing?!" I yelped. Then, I gestured towards all the machinery. "And what is all this?!"

Soldier laughed. "This, mein freund, is the culmination of years of research! Years and years of work, effort, and sacrifice! Or rather, it is my abandoned research, resurrected by you." He turned to me with narrowed eyes. "Thank you, spy."

Soldier was talking strangely, and definitely not acting right. What was going on? Research? "'ave you gone insane? What are you trying to do?!"

Soldier pressed a watch on his arm. When did he get a watch? Red static appeared around him, and then, standing there with a demented grin on his face, was blue medic.

I've seen him "revived" way too many times. I was inclined to not believe this was genuine. "So you are a spy. Now change into your undisguised state, before I kill you." I glared at the 'medic', waiting for him to undisguised, but all the man did was shake his head with a small smile.

"Ah, Herr Spy. Eyes are not reliable, you know? I am zhe genuine article, mein freund, and you are getting to be a nuisance." Medic crossed his arms and craned his neck to look at the machinery. "I suppose test subjects deserve to know what is happening."

I flinched inwardly. Test subject? "'ow am I a test subject?"

Medic laughed. "Jawhol, you vere a test subject. It is really quite simple. I did all the testing within my job parameters too!" He tugged some crooked wires into position. "I have successfully discovered how to become a higher being…something no human has done before!" A maniacal light entered his eyes. "Do you see zhe brilliance of zhis project, spy? I am about to become an evolved life form, a being that does not age, and can control the matter in his body! Haha!"

I stood there silently. I've been surprised to many times, shocked by so many dramatic things, that medic's words were sort of lost on me. "You're insane."

Medic winked. "Insane? Nooo. I am very much sane, my friend. My device works, that's all you need to know. I admit, I had to use some of your memories to complete this, but all I had to do was sneak in while you vere asleep."

"My memories?" I said hesitantly. "My memories helped you build this?"

Medic pointed towards a table situated against the left wall. There was a glove with a mass of wires sticking to it there. "Zhat device, when used correctly, allows you to view memories."

Okay, so medic is insane. "This is all science-fiction, docteur. I don't know why you're here, but you're talking nonsense." I couldn't stop a cross look from stealing over my face. "You are annoying me."

Medic threw his head back and laughed again. "Oh, but it isn't fiction! Not anymore!"

"You're dead!" I shouted angrily. "I saw you get shot!"

Medic shook his head and turned to me. "You saw my clone get shot. You fought my clone in the city. Technology is stagnant water, spy. I just needed to get it moving with some…downhill movement."

"That thing in the city…?"

Medic shrugged indifferently. "Those are clones grown from my DNA. It takes roughly fourteen months to grow one. They are mindless, and are controlled by wires and mechanical systems that run so smoothly you can't tell the difference. The wired one was done on purpose…for you…perusal."

I glared at him. "That. Is. Impossible."

Medic looked annoyed now. "You have evidence before you, and you will not accept it? Humans are so pathetic. They claim seeing is believing, but when they don't want to believe, they won't see! So humans aren't going to get anywhere!" He snapped his fingers. "That snap is how long it takes for a human to decide he doesn't care!"

I took a step forward, but medic glared at me. "Not another step." I froze, and made myself content to watch from a few feet away.

Medic bowed. "You are lucky, spy. You get a front row seat to zhe world's most amazing scientific show. Zhe path to living forever ends here!"

"You really are insane," I said flatly.

Medic pressed some buttons into the wall. "Insane? No, just angry. Zhis world, which has done so many wrongs, is going to see a bloody scar carved into it." A dangerous gleam drifted over his eyes. "Zhey von't forget me easily."

I stood stock still as lights began to swirl around medic. Rays descended from gaps in the ceiling, basking the room in an otherworldly glow. Medic gave a loud cackle, and said gleefully, "Oh, zhis could be a movie, zhis! I should record it!"

Three beams of blue light descended onto medic. This should be an alien movie, except I hate the writers. They are evidently torturing me.

I saw blue lights swirl around medic. "Vhen zhe conversion is done, I vill no longer be human." Medic looked straight at me, and smiled. "Good night."

A flash of light knocked me out cold.

When I came round, medic looked significantly different. His hair was longer now, hanging down and spilling around his shoulders. His eyes had turned literally red, and the whites were now black. He turned to me. "Oh, hello. So sorry I had to knock you out. I just vanted to make sure you did not see anyzhing important. You've been out cold for ten minutes." Medic held up a hand. "I vill be…different in twenty minutes."

I noticed I sat by the table with the glove on it. Medic sat down cross-legged with his eyes shut and was still. I took advantage of his non-attention to study the glove. The wires, apparently, had to be stuck into my arms. Then, according to a little note medic had written, I had to put the gloved hand on the target's head.

Would it work on medic, apparently evolving into something? I slipped on the glove and attached he needles to my skin. (ouch.) Medic's eyes fluttered open, and I froze.

Medic stared at me for a good minute, during which I dared not move. Then, he slowly closed his eyes. "You vould be vise to know zhat device doesn't vork on me in zhis state."

I looked at him slowly. Was he lying? I couldn't tell. Whatever was going on, I needed to do something. I looked at the wires, thinking to shoot them, but they had slid behind a steel screen. Damn!

Scout stirred feebly, and then collapsed back again. I looked at the boy's beat up face, and turned to medic angrily. Son of a gun….

I adjusted the glove and strode over to scout and pyro. Pyro had a nasty cut on his forehead, but it was already clotting, so I let it be. Scout seemed alright, other than being bruised up. I looked at the gloves in my hand. Medic seemed to have been manipulating everything and everyone up to this point. Were the gloves simply a trick, one of his shenanigans? I adjusted the glove, and a green light blinked on. The wire tips stung and my arm throbbed, but I was going to have to bet the glove worked. It was that or leave medic to do whatever he wanted…and actually, that sounds pretty good.

I'm joking.

I hopped onto medic's platform, and reached forward with the gloved hand.

Medic reacted with lightning speed, his hand spinning out to knock mine away. "Geh!"

I leapt back, startled, and nearly fell off the platform. "If it doesn't work, docteur, why are you worried?"

Medic glared daggers at me, and said some rather unrepeatable things in German.

I leapt aside as he threw a punch, but with impossible reflexes his fist turned and caught me in the side, knocking me off the platform. "ULK!"

Medic hissed something but did not follow me off the platform. Apparently, his device was real, working, and he was staying under it.

I watched as he curled his fingers together. Sparks appeared on his fingertips. No way, electrical powers? Not possible! The sparks died instantly though, and medic frowned. "I need more time…."

"You're not getting it!" scout said, leaping up. Was he awake the whole time? He could've helped.

Scout took out his little Lugermorph. I never got why he used it. It was no better than any other pistol…just fancier.

Scout fired a few random shots, several going wide, and two slamming into medic's shoulders. Medic gritted his teeth as blood flowed out. "Pathetic." Medic grabbed a pistol from is own pocket and shot the pistol out of scout's hand. Since when was he a marksman?

Scout flinched, and clutched at his hand. Medic stood there on the platform, chest heaving. With a constricted voice, he said, "Get in my vay, and I vill kill you."

I watched as medic slowly turned around to face me. That, of course, was a mistake.

I leapt forward, and my hand clamped onto his face. Literally. There was a flash of light in my mind, and suddenly I was in medic's head, looking at memory's years old.

How did I get caught up in this? I hope I'm dreaming.

AN: 11/29/12. Author plays basketball. Author is thinking about his story when his teammate throws a basketball at him. Author now has a baby black eye. As in, a little light-purple region that throbs painfully. The author proceeds to take out his anger on the fic's characters. Author now avoids the basketball courts. Author also is glad his glasses didn't shatter and blind him, or he'd not be writing the fanfic right now. Sorry for slow updating. My school has been distracting me.


	17. Chapter 17: Flashback

AN: Yes, the ending was random, extremely fictional, and strange. I don't like it either, but I had an idea for SOMETHING like that, and it wouldn't come out right…sorry. Thanks for the reviews, and by the way, XGuy? (Reviewer wakes up as a computer program and continues to write stories/reviews.)

It is the strangest sensation to float in someone else's thoughts. It's impossible to describe, but mostly because this technology should be impossible. I glanced around, then realized I couldn't see. It was infinite blackness. I could turn my head, but the rest of my limbs drifted aimlessly, and I couldn't move them. I panicked, but then realized I wasn't exactly breathing either. My suit and such were there, fortunately, but I simply drifted. Just when I was about to lose my mind thinking I was trapped here forever, light returned and I landed on solid ground.

"Thank god!" I muttered I looked around. I sure as hell wasn't in the basement anymore. I was in a small park, surrounded by children running around. Parents stood talking to each other, occasionally telling their children not to jump into the pond. Which they did anyway.

In one corner of the park, which was framed by tall trees, a child stood. His hair had a mat of orange leaves. It seemed to be fall. On closer inspection, the boy had a narrow, studious face. He looked a lot like a boy version of medic. Glasses sat on the tip of his nose. Wait a second. This glove.

I looked down at my hand to see the glove still on my hand. The entire device was glowing. Is this a dream? Or very strange science fiction. The boy looked up, and at first I flinched, but he stared right through me with hollow eyes at two adults arguing on the opposite end of the park. I turned to the people, and based on their appearances guessed they were the boy's parents. If I had it right, the boy was medic, probably around eight or nine years old.

The adults resembled medic to some extent. The father was somewhat heavy set, with a loud voice and irrational face. The mother was thin and waspish, with rectangle glasses perched on her sharp nose. The two were screeching at each other like sirens. People turned to stare as they passed.

I walked over and picked up garbled words. No matter how close I got though, I couldn't make out the words. I was finally standing next to them, and could still hear no better than a vague noise. Then, it occurred to me. If this was a memory (Okay. I give up. This is actually happening, not a dream.) then medic would only have heard them from afar. So I would hear the same. The two really were loud, to be heard from such a distance.

Medic finally moved, without me noticing. I noticed now that the parents' outlines ahd been blurred, and they cleared as medic neared. Moving like a ghost, medic snaked around until he was sitting behind a bush near the parents. Presumably, they were his parents.

"…take care of him! You are as much his parent as I am!" The mother was screaming.

"If you're as much his parent, then why can't you take care of him?"

"That boy is your son too!"

"I never said the brat isn't! But-!"

"But! But! That's all I hear, you bastard!"

The father fell silent, and then he muttered some curses in German and stomped off.

Medic hung his head behind the bush, whispering to himself. I could hear the words despite me not being near.

"…These are supposed to be my parents? Mine?"

So they were his parents. The scene blurred, and suddenly I stood in a small room. Disoriented by the instantaneous travel, I reeled for a moment, and then looked about. Medic sat on a chair, seemingly studying. His head was tilted, listening to yelling going on downstairs. A physics textbook sat open before him. I'd guess he was thirteen.

Voices came up.

"So the divorce papers are ready?" A female voice, tired yet angry.

The woman seemed to be talking on a phone, since there was a garbled noise. I tried to leace the room, but when I approached the door and opened it, there was simply black darkness beyond. The boy did not notice the door open. In his memories, it never opened.

"Good. The bastard left years back, but I never got round for the divorce papers, ja? Oh, the kid? Reports of…what?! He's been talking to a psychologist? I'm going to…oh, what? Child ab-no! Why the hell would I do that? I'm not…okay…yes…got it. Okay."

The phone slammed off, and the mother's voice came up, causing medic to jump. "YOU BRAT! GET DOWN HERE! YOU WANT TO GO TO A FOSTER HOME? HUH? YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST-!"

The memory ended again, and now I was at a high school. A teenager stood amongst a crowd of students. This time, words echoed around in my head. Medic's voice, but younger. His thoughts, maybe?

_This is ridiculous. I cannot wait until I am out of school. If I have to spend one more year with that…woman, I'm going to keel over and die!_

A male teen with a gaggle of girls around him walked by. They giggled and pointed at medic as they passed. Medic only shrugged, and walked on.

_ Humans. Pathetic. I wish I wasn't human, but my flesh, as much as I hate it, is human. Disgusting, most of them. If I respected even one…._

The memory shifted, and now medic looked older. Barely. There was some stubble on his chin, and the haunted, tired look I had come to recognize was forming. It was another high school memory, perhaps the third year. I realized it was incorrect to call it a high school, since the German school system had a different educational manner. Anyway, the main difference between this medic and the one we had now was a warm smile. Not a falsely cheerful grin. Not an icy, cold, demented smile. A warm, genuinely happy smile. He was walking astride a girl who looked about the same age. She was admittedly pretty, with reddish hair and a smooth face, but based on medic's last memory she should be hated. Apparently.

The girl looked like someone who'd never be around medic. Medic, particularly as a teen, wasn't ugly. He just looked, well, bookish. He only had that defining tuft of hair that hung out onto his forehead. He laughed at something the girl said.

I realized then that this memory was blurry, vague. Had medic tried to forget this memory, let it go?

I couldn't hear the words, and already the faces were blurry. I frowned. I didn't want to go yet, since this seemed like the only happy memory, but I had no choice in the matter. Soon I was at some kind of graduation. I guess most countries have graduation ceremonies, and Germany was no exception. Medic, however, was not amongst the other students in school uniform. He sat without his glasses under a tree, by the edge of the school grounds. A few passerby through him strange looks, but he ignored them all. His eyes were narrowed, and he glared at the crowd. They looked to be at the end of the ceremony.

At the end, the students dispersed, and a few girls approached medic, asking them something. He put on a smile, but I recognized it now that I'd seen his genuine smile. This one was plastic-fake. The one he'd used when working for Mann Co. The girls asked him some things, but their words were garbled too. Medic probably didn't have a reason to want to forget this memory. He likely just slowly forgot over time. Memories grow vague, and his were no exception. The faces were relatively clear, and it seemed that medic had gained popularity for whatever reason. Some of the girls were very obviously asking for his contact information, but medic said something, fake smile still on, and they left.

The smile fell away, to be replaced by a gloomy, brooding face.

In was no longer distorted by the memory swaps, fortunately, and soon found myself in another memory, where it was evening, and the sun was setting. Medic looked exactly the same, so it was probably a memory close to it. He was about to enter a house when someone ran up to him, panting and gasping.

"Aksel! Aksel!"

Aksel? Medic's name wasn't Ken? I thought gloomily that medic didn't tell us a lot in the end. He obviously lied about a lot.

Medic turned to the person, another teen about his age with thick brown hair. "What's wrong, Ryan?"

"You know Emeline? She got hit by a car! They're looking for people who know her, since neither of her parents are responding to calls!"

Medic's face twisted, literally. A look of absolute horror and sheer worry crossed his face for merely a moment. He dropped his bag and ran to Ryan. "Where is she?"

Ryan pointed down the street. "It's only out in the main street!"

Medic shoved past Ryan and ran, his legs a blur. I found myself moving without moving. To be precise, my legs didn't move, but I seemed to glide along with medic. Soon, Aksel was out in a large street. The car in question was a van, and a girl lay prone. The body was actually on the sidewalk, and the truck was there too. Somehow, it had swerved and hit the girl. Police were gathered around. Oddly, they were American police, and I thought mildly that he must not be in Germany. Paramedics were gathered around the body, taking notes on clipboards and muttering to each other.

The taking notes part instantly told me she was dead, or they'd have carted her to an ambulance already. And she had to be hurt bad, for them to write her off as dead.

Medic pushed past the officers, ignoring several angry protests. He fell to his knees by the body, eyes wide. My eyes flew wide too. The girl's face was bloody, and I could even see a faint white sheen. Her skull! I gagged, and even though it was just a memory, I felt like throwing up. Her body was soaked in blood too. The driver, a bald man in his forties, was arguing with an officer, very evidently drunk. One officer was shaking his head in disgust while another took out handcuffs.

Medic was being tugged away by an officer. Axsel, I should say, was not saying anything. The officer asked, "You her friend, son?"

Medic nodded numbly, and simply stared at the bloody girl. The girl was the one from the other memory. Her one eye not coated in blood stared sightlessly up at the sky.

The officer, once he got the answer from medic, let go of him, and just shook his head sadly. "Damn drunks."

Medic seemed to never care about anyone, and now here he was, staring hollowly at a dead person.

The memories might have gone on except for when a figure appeared. The current medic. Oh dear.

The current medic stood in front of me, arms crossed. "Vell," he said through gritted teeth. "Believe my devices vork now? I hope you are having fun rooting through my memories."

I shook my head. "This…this…."

Medic glared at his past self. "In America, you can get avay vith nearly anything vith a gut lawyer. The man received a small fine, and got avay vithout even prison time."

"Who was she," I asked. "To mean so much?"

Medic closed his eyes, and I swear I saw moisture on his eyelashes. Briefly. "Zhere veren't many people I respected vhen I vas younger. Most of zhe people I respected were dead vones. When zhe teacher asked me in primary school who I respected, I said zhe names of dead scientists and Greek philosophers. Zhe teachers thought me insane."

I struggled to buy time, glancing down at the glove to figure out how to get out of medic's memories. "So…she was your girlfriend?"

Medic snorted. "Nein. I vas not all zhat…friendly. I also found most of zhe teenagers who did zhe most disgusting things at parties bothersome. She was intelligent, though, despite her looks." Medic paused, glancing at the corpse. "I disliked her vhen she first approached and talked to me."

"Why?" I asked, glancing down at the glove again.

Medic stared at the body, mirroring his past self. "Her looks kept bothering the part of the mind I had sealed avay. Zhen again, I am human, and I vas a teenager. Humans have instincts. All species reproduce."

It was disconcerting to hear medic talk about humans in such a detached manner, as though we were another subject for him to chat about. "So…you liked her?"

Medic grinned slightly. "Jawhol. I did, but I deliberately closed that emotion off the moment I saw her. It vas difficult though, to not give in to instincts." He crossed his arms. "I vent to America, and she followed me. I vent zhere originally to study theories hundreds of years old. For vhatever reasons, zhe texts were only in America."

I tugged at the glove, slowly trying to ease it off my hand. Medic didn't notice, and motored on.

"It was tantalizing at times to try and hug her, a basic instinct. I managed to distant myself mentally enough to avoid zhat." Medic was laughing softly now, moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes. "I vas studying biology. In particular life extension."

I paused. "So the machine…."

Medic sighed. "Yes. It vas based of zhis research. To be very honest, I originally abandoned zhe notes. After zhis event I managed to make myself act normal. I even attempted being friendly, and in zhe end my own hatred towards humans settled down a little." Medic wiped his eyes rapidly. "I had nearly completely forgotten about my research when _you_ came."

"M-Me?"

Medic turned to me, affecting not to notice that I was trying to tug the glove off my hand. "I got vone of my key research texts in France. Vhen you came, I dug out my notes and buried myself in zhis project. Zhis cold, cruel vorld has no salvation. Humans are being dragged to zheir own extinction, by their own hands no less!" A cold look returned to his face. "I von't kill everyone…humans are already heading zhat vay, vhat vith pollution and zheir wars. I simply vill take my revenge on zhe people who ruined vhat I tried to stand for." He took a step towards me. "I vas powerless. I did try to understand and befriend humans. I really did. But I vas tossed aside and crumpled up, nothing more than garbage! Garbage!"

Medic's breath was coming in short rasps now. He took another step closer. "Do you see? Humans are beyond saving! If zhey continue to exist, it is by their own survival instincts and not their natures! People die, poor, homeless, sick, and zhe rich-no-even middle-class take all zhey have for granted!" Medic was screaming now. "I vill not live in zhis vorld! Zhis vorld of lies, pathetic beings, and false faces!"

I slid the glove off as medic finished his rant. However, only a flash of light happened, and then medic was there again. Oh wait. We were back in the basement.

Medic looked even more different now. His hair had gotten even longer, and it was trailing down his back and chest. Sparks crackled around his hands. "Avake? I had to use my ozher machines to go in and have a nice chat vith you. Had I not already partially evolved I'd be in a coma of sorts, vith you rooting through my memories randomly."

"All that," I said slowly. "They were real memories?"

Medic nodded, dark black eyes flaring. "Yes, zhey vere. My name, of course, is Aksel."

"But…all this is so extreme!" I said frantically. "People die all the time!"

"Yes," medic said, eerily calm. "But zhat doesn't mean zhey needed to. Or had to."

I frowned. "So…are you going to kill us?" Despite my indifferent mask, I felt panic bubble in my chest.

Medic shook his head. "No. Nein. I vill not. I have no reason to be angry at you, or zhe teammates. In fact, zhe time I spent on zhe team vas vone of my happiest times in my life."

"No way," I said. "All this…you weren't happy. You were just deluded. Unsure."

Medic shrugged. "Maybe. However, I vill not exactly stoop to simply killing. I vill make life miserable for zhose men I hate. Or women. I have met many who should not exist…and I vill admit zhere are humans that are good, decent. Hardvorking people who have simply misfortune. I vill change zhis vorld vith my very hands, and zhen depart. Forever."

He's insane. He really is. I thought for a way out of the situation. Scout was standing there, I realized, watching. He spoke now. "Da hell happened?"

For such a dramatic occurrence, scout is the biggest understater of the year.

Medic laughed slightly. "Things beyond your comprehension. Eighteen year olds vouldn't understand science, ja?"

"Eighteen?" I exclaimed, a little louder than I needed to. "Really? I figured 'e was lying about 'is age, but eighteen?"

Scout nodded, not quite looking at me. "Yeah…I'm nineteen."

"Why lie, though? They have a pretty low age requirement for the scout job, oui?"

Scout sighed. "Yeah, but they don't take kids seriously, ya know?"

Medic glanced at me. "Vhen I vas younger, in mein teen years, I created several things. My earliest inventions. I vas not a genius, I hated math and did only mediocre in engineering, but I knew enough to put togezher several things, ranging from new medicines to a life support system, vhich vas merely a modified unit. Nobody believed I had created zhem. I vas a teen, and in zhe arrogant adults' eyes, not even fully a human. Even in law, teens and children are not fully human."

Scout was holding his pistol tightly, eyes on medic.

Medic turned to scout and held up a hand. Large sparks danced between his fingers. "I vould not try and shoot me if I vere you. I can create electricity now." Suddenly, the sparks grew and engulfed his hand. Medic looked at it in faint wonder, like a child seeing snow for the first time. "Ah, I have evolved enough zhat my muscles can redirect zhe electromagnetic pulses in my body and increase zheir power. Even I did not expect to be zhis strong already." He snapped his fingers, and from between his index and middle finger, a lightning bolt flew and slammed into the podium. "Amazing."

Medic really was looking on the verge of immortality. I had originally thought this was some kind of insane joke. I no longer thought that.

Medic sighed. "Vhen zhis is over, I vill figure out a vay to end it, perhaps kill myself."

Yeah right. Medic was becoming some kind of monster. I doubted he'd really stop at murdering some people he disliked. I wondered if I could kill him, if it was even possible in his current state. Then, of course, there was the matter that I'd be stabbing a man whom I had worked with for months, respected, lost, and found. Hmm.

Medic stood there silently. Then, he laughed. "Vell, it seems you von't get in my vay. Vhen zhe conversion is done I von't kill you." Medic tossed a miniature lightning bolt from hand to hand. It slipped out at one point and slammed into my right arm.

"OW!" A huge shock filled my body, perhaps not as bad as a genuine lightning bolt, but rather like touching several torn electrical cords.

"Oh dear," medic said mildly. "Are you alright?"

"Alright?!" I squeaked. (My voice had gone up several octaves in pitch from the shock.) "How would I be alright?!"

Medic shrugged and turned to scout.

"Oh don't mind me," I grumbled (As low as my voice would go right then.) "I just got hit by a miniature lightning bolt. I'm fine. Go on and have fun."

Medic glanced at me, and then turned back to scout. "Herr Scout, is pyro alright? I think zhe knockout gas vas a bit much."

My voice settled down, and I watched as scout slapped pyro. "Hey! Flamey! Wake up!"

Pyro twitched, but remained unconscious.

"Vell," medic said. "I used more on him, considering zhe difference in body mass, but it may take him a vhile to vake up."

I wasn't sure what to do. It still all felt strange, ethereal. I knew this was real, but it's difficult to say what is real and what's not when science-fiction lost the fiction suffix.

I wanted to be a spy, do the job, go home when the term was up, and be done, hopefully with more cash. Instead, I'm caught up in a plot by Mann Co. because of some rivalry between brothers, and now I'm dealing with an insane scientist/doctor. I wish I never opened that letter. All I had to do was show up, backstab a few people, and leave.

Medic was sitting down again, eyes closed. Pyro stirred, and looked around groggily. "What…what happened?"

Scout began babbling something slightly related to the situation, and I just stared at medic. It didn't seem right that he was doing all this just because he didn't like people. Also just because someone he knew died, he was going insane and doing all this. True, that person theoretically was the closest thing he had to a friend, but still. What was up with him?

Medic sat cross-legged, eyes closed like earlier. The blue rays continued to shoot down from the ceiling and encase him in a strange glow. His hair seemed to be growing too. Sparks played around his frame. I was still puzzled. One dead person?

There were people who went mad with grief, but medic didn't. He bottled up his anger at the world, just like all his other emotions. When I'd been wandering around in medic's mind, I'd felt that horrible anger bubbling up in my chest, threatening to overflow and burst out.

Scout was watching with a strange expression, and then he crept over to me on all fours. "Do…do you think we oughta do something?"

"Like what?" I asked flatly. "What do you want me to do, poke him?"

Scout shrugged. "Anything, really. Maybe we could kill him?"

I looked at him. "You were all broken up when medic went missing."

"The sane medic," scout corrected. "Dis guy ain't doc."

I looked at the weapons I had with me. My knife, my revolver (diamondback) and my disguise kit. The watch too, of course. I had no sapper with me, strangely, but that really wouldn't matter now. Scout had his Lugermorph and scattergun, decent weapons in their own right, but of unknown value against a monster. Pyro had his flare gun, but otherwise we were a motley crew. Unless medic reverted to human right now, I think we'd not be much use against him.

Medic looked at us, eyes opening again. When he spoke his voice was distorted, like the voice of a thousand men. "Do you honestly think you can kill me? I may not be purely evolved, but while I am on this…pedestal, my strength is tripled, and electromagnetic energy production is doubled." Medic leaned towards us slightly. "Even if you forced me off the pedestal, I'd have a pretty strong power with me. Electricity."

Scout glared at medic, while I watched the energy swarm around him like bees. It encased him, protected him. Off the pedestal, we'd stand a chance. On it, we were nothing. At least, that was what I hoped. I knew nothing of how strong medic had gotten thus far. If only there were a good science-fiction novel sitting around. It might actually help me.

I watched in horrified fascination as medic's hair lengthened further, and he tugged off his gloves. The energy was brighter now, and medic' canines sharpened. Medic noticed me staring at grinned. "The rays enhance evolutionary sections of DNA. We all theoretically came from one answer. Even if that is untrue, most mammals share similar genetic strands, at least in some sections." Medic tapped a rapidly elongating canine. "Probably wolf DNA."

Once they had reached nice, sharp, pointy, deadly, horrible tips, the teeth stopped changing. Then, though, medic let out a scream of pain.

His veins were bulging, pulsing against his neck. Blood vessels stood out on his hands, and he staggered upright with evident effort. He clutched at his neck, and then when the pain seemingly subsided, he muttered, "Vell, zhe chrysalis stage has begun." He rubbed his neck. "In a few minutes zhe process vill be done, and zhose who affronted me in zhe past vill rue zhe day zhey vere born!"

Few minutes?

Scout held up his scattergun, but I forced it down. "What can you do against that…thing!?" I growled. It's no use; we were as good as dead if we did anything.

"You heard him!" scout yelped. "A few more minutes! We gotta stop him!"

Medic laughed, voice still echoing and hoarse. "Stop me? How comical. What can you do against me?"

Scout looked at me fearfully, wide-eyed, and I squirmed uncomfortably. I didn't want to fight him, but scout would probably charge off and do so anyway. Then, he'd be killed. I looked over at pyro, he nodded slightly and gripped his flare gun. So, pyro wanted to attack medic?

Scout was looking at me with those pitiful eyes again. Ugh.

"Fine," I whispered. "Let's do this. But scout? Don't do anything stupid."

Medic cocked his head. "Funny. My hearing has amplified t-"

_Kssh!_

A flare burst against the back of medic's head. He screamed, and clutched at his scorched neck. Smoke swirled around his head, and the strands of hair in that region were ablaze.

The blue rays from above darted at medic's wound, sealing it, healing it. Before it could complete, though, another flare slammed into that same spot. Medic yelled a curse and spun around to face pyro, who ducked and shot off towards his left. A lightning bolt scorched where he had stood moments before.

Scout leapt forward and fired at point blank range, pumping medic full of bullets. Blood flew out medic's back from several bullet holes, and he doubled over in agony. Scout fired a bullet at medic's neck with his Lugermorph, but it flew through and the wound sealed shut rapidly. "Da' hell?"

Medic gasped out a curse and grabbed scout's collar. "You-!"

I watched, still silent, as another flare burst against medic's skull. Medic's ear blackened, and he clutched at it. Now, he fired several bolts of electricity everywhere, and one scorched pyro's shoulder.

I held up my knife and ran towards medic. He still had a human anatomy, yes? I stabbed at his exposed back, but medic spun and his arm knocked into mine, tossing me back several feet. "Augh!"

Scout kicked medic in the stomach and leapt away when medic doubled over again. The bullet holes were already sealing, and I realized it was hopeless under the healing rays. "Get him off the platform!" I shouted, voice cracking. "Get him away from the beams!"

Pyro did a running jump towards medic, and before I could stop him, he tackled medic and shoved him off the edge. The blue beams broke, and the light died. The room's light flickered on, and the device powered down. That's all it took to shut it down? Get the subject off the platform?

Medic screeched, an unearthly wail that hurt my ears. He clawed at pyro, fingernails becoming clawed and jagged. "SCHWEINH-!"

Scout attacked medic again, crashing into medic's back and bowling him over. Medic yelled and his hand grabbed scout by the throat. "Scout!" I shouted, running towards medic.

Pyro grabbed medic's arm, but medic kicked him away and tossed the sputtering scout towards the wall. He hit it with a bang and slid to the floor. A bloody streak was left as he slid down the wall. His eyes were closed, and blood leaked out his mouth.

"Scout!"

Pyro fired his flare gun into medic's back, and for a moment I saw medic, leaning against the wall, back bloodied and covered in scorch marks. It faded though, as medic screeched and slashed at pyro. Medic wasn't wearing his gloves, of course.

Filled with sudden fury, I slammed into medic, driving him to the floor and stabbing at hi chest with my knife. Then, there was a spark, and electricity flooded me. Pure. Agony.

I was thrown backwards again, smoking and my neck red. A scorch mark sat on my collarbone. Medic stood opposite of me, chest heaving and breathing heavily. Blood ran down his right arm, and there were burn marks on his shoulder that probably reached to his back, thanks to pyro.

"You…" medic wheezed, rubbing his throat. "Vhy are you doing this? A few people who did wrong die, and zhen **I** die! Vhy vould you…" he paused, hacking and coughing. "Resist?"

"Because it's wrong!" I said. It was simple as that. Decency, common sense, what were they if they weren't here?

Medic scowled. "Zhat…is a human fault. Zhey speak kind vords but care only to _sound_ right! Only if zhey make zhe people _think_ it is good! Governments! Corruptions! These are real! Right and wrong are not!" He shot another bolt at me, but I sidestepped it and pulled out my revolver.

I didn't get to use it though, as medic charged me and reached for my neck. His hands glowed and sparked, and I knew if he so much as touched me, I'd die. There was a lot of electricity coursing through those fingers.

Medic shouted some German words and leapt at me the last few feet.

My hand moved seemingly of its own accord, and before I knew it my revolver was planted on medic's chest. I was about to pull the trigger when hesitation seized me, and medic's eyes widened as he saw his chance. His hand clamped on my wrist, and I prepared myself to receive another jolt (How do you prepare yourself for an electrical shock? I think I just sort of blanked out my mind.) but there was a sickening crunch, and medic slumped against me. "YEUGH! Get off!"

I shoved medic off, and saw a bloodied section on the back of his head. I looked up and saw pyro clutching his fist. "Well," pyro murmured. "Punches worked."

"Nein."

I recoiled, and pyro did as well. Medic slowly sat up, and glared at me with slightly crossed eyes. "Zhat's it! You're going to die now!"

Now? So he wasn't trying to kill us before, throwing lightning bolts and choking us?

I leapt aside as another jolt slammed into the ground, scorching the steel. Pyro was thrown back by medic's flailing left arm. Scout remained, well, dead-ish.

I was desperately dodging now, avoiding lightning bolts and trying to make my way closer. Just when it seemed medic was about to throw another bolt and strike me, another miracle occurred. No sparks came. He stared numbly at his hand while I reflected I had a few lucky saves the pat few minutes.

I planted my revolver on medic's chest, and making sure my hand was steady, I pulled the trigger.


	18. Chapter 18: Human

AN:Herr doktor is evil and stuff! Yeah, it gravitated WAY off from the Mann Co. setting, moving towards the sidelines and becoming another topic altogether. Don't worry, the strange story ends soon, and my idea for the follow-up is much more team fortress. In fact, it revolves around MvM, released a couple months back. ;) But that'll come later. I had to re-write this thing two or three times, because once again, it wouldn't READ right. The little intro words are mostly nonsensical. Don't mind them if you like.

_Did you think you could trust me?_

_ I trust none, and neither should you._

_ But as you were foolish enough to do so, come to me._

_ I will hurt your pathetic heart ever so gently._

_ I will rend the agony of being into your flesh._

_ Words will flow from my mouth, words of mistrust._

_ Honey coats the dagger that is my voice,_

_ And so I would claim you and your sanity._

_ I am the devil; I have the forked tongue of the damned._

_ Trust me and I will break that trust into pieces, and scatter them._

_ You will never be reconciled, never be trustful._

_ Would it be that you might trust me still, and so you would be foolish._

_ You could not stop my words with your gun, _

_ And your knife meant nothing to me._

_ You are the horror that you wrought upon yourself._

_ See the world collapse around you, in flames._

_ For I am the devil incarnate, and you are but a toy._

_ Listen to the words that flow out of my mouth,_

_ Dragging you slowly, oh so slowly, into the darkness._

_ I am the devil, and you are my prey._

Medic had died once before, before my own eyes. Now, he died again, in a stranger manner, but for some reason, I felt that he hadn't been alive. He'd already died; died inside, when the girl died.

Medic's mouth was half-open, about so say something. His mouth was a surprised O as I fired.

The bullet blasted straight through medic's chest. It had been aimed right over his heart, and the amount of blood that splattered everywhere proved it. Warm red liquid splashed all over me, staining my suit and coating my hands in a layer of red. I backed away in horror, mouth open. I just shot through medic's heart! Oh gods. Even he can't survive that! I was right. He didn't.

Medic's mouth was still open, and as you felt the bullet tear through his flesh, grind open his heart and tear the veins, fury took his face.

"YOU!" he screamed, coughing blood as he did so. "VHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! I AM-!"

He twitched, and his arms fell to his sides. As I took a step back, his face was reanimated with an expression of fury. Then, the strangest thing happened. Starting from the region at the base of his skull, behind his head where his skull met his neck, he began to come apart. Literally, medic's skin peeled off in little squares. They lost their color and turned the shade of ash as they drifted off him. There was no blood, or flesh bleeding out. It was simply hollow, empty space when it came off. Medic's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. He was dying. In a strange manner, but his body had reached its limits.

"I can't-I won't-I'm not going to…die!" he screeched, clawing at his neck, which was already coming apart rapidly. His head snapped back to me. "Zhis is your fault! Miststuck!"

I didn't know what the last word meant, but it couldn't have been good. I was silent, mostly out of shock, and said nothing. Medic's eyes widened in panic, and he staggered over to his desk. Parts of his arm were coming away already, and the back of his head was beginning to fall apart. He scrambled around his documents, and grabbed a syringe. "Zhis…zhis might be some ti-VHAT DID YOU DO?!"

I had drawn my pistol and shot the syringe, causing it to shatter and explode blue liquid all over his hand. "You've lived long enough, docteur." Brave words on my part, but I felt a sense of horror. Medic was about to die. I had helped to bring that about.

My brain knew nothing was wrong. Yet, there was some tiny section in my brain that panicked.

Medic tossed the syringe aside, and with bloodshot eyes began to scan the table. "Nothing here…nothing here! I need to slow zhe decomposition…zhe-!" At that point a large section of his throat came away, and his voice cracked.

Then, he slowly, purposefully, straightened and turned to me. His demonic appearance made it difficult not to flinch.

Baring his teeth, he shouted at me, "You're dying too! If I'm going to go, I am going to drag you to hell vith me, schwein!" He lunged at me in a tackle he'd tried earlier, one he'd tried with lightning at his disposal. Now, he simply was a demented man with a vendetta. A vendetta that lasted as long as however many minutes he had to live. "EEAARGH!"

His hands clamped onto my shoulder before I could step away. Now, the back-half of his body was virtually non-existent. He clawed at my throat, shouting nonsensical words and making panicked noises with what was left of his throat.

I struggled to tear his hands away from my throat, but for a man who was already 50% gone, he was strong.

I managed to shove his fingers aside and draw in a breath as quite suddenly, medic was gone.

"Huh?"

The rest of medic had burst apart, into the little ashy pieces. Medic was gone. For good.

Pyro stared, eyes surely as wide as my own. "He's…gone?"

Gone. Gone. Gone for good.

Medic, all too close to immortal, reappearing all the time as though from nowhere. He couldn't be gone, really, I thought. Not so…suddenly. I mean, I can't just point a gun at his heart, shoot, and then he's gone. That's not possible. It can't just end so abruptly, so meaninglessly. Boom! Gone. It can't….

I looked over at scout and almost laughed aloud with relief. The boy stirred, and his eyes fluttered open. "Huh?"

Pyro just shook his head in wonder, staring at the pile of ash beginning to gather on the ground. "It's…over?"

I could still see medic's last expression, one of horror, of a being clawing to stay in this world, desperate, angry, and beyond mere thought.

I was jolted out of my reverie by a loud bang. A metal door flew out of the dark entrance corridor and hit the opposite wall. "What the 'ell…?"

Engineer and sniper breezed in, engineer holding several sticks of dynamite and a hand grenade. "Woah! What in tarnation is this?"

Sniper looked around the room coolly, and then noticed the pile of ash. "Huh? Wozzat? Wos there a campfire or something?"

Campfire. Think, sniper. Why would there be a campfire down here in the basement, jarman?! "No, bushman. That is medic's remains."

"Woah, what?" Engineer cut in. He took out his wrench and stirred up the ash a bit. "You tellin' me that's doc?"

"You had to be there," pyro said mildly.

"Hah!" sniper scoffed. "Do oi look stupid to you?"

"Yes," I said bluntly.

"WOT?!"

"Oh hush up you two," engineer said. He studied the room, a frown on his face. "This here machinery…mighty advanced tech, yeah?"

No, engineer, it is not futuristic equipment. It is totally medieval spears and clubs. Spears and clubs that mutate you into a monster that lives forever and throws lightning bolts. Hehe. He. He….

That wasn't funny.

Scout was leaning against the wall, blinking owlishly. "…da' hell happened?"

Sniper picked up a grain of ash and held it between his thumb and index finger. "You're saying that this was the doc, mate?"

"Oui."

I could tell sniper did not believe me, but I did not care. The result of the fight had finally gotten to me. Once the original rush of adrenaline had worn off, I was left tired and feeling hollow. Also, I kept feeling stinging pains all over me, from burns and electrical residue. "Ugh…I am going to feel 'orrible for days…." My legs suddenly gave out, and sniper reached out a hand to help me up. When I grabbed it tough, he cried out and let go. "Huh?"

"Wot the bloody hell were you tryin', mate?" sniper roared, rubbing his hand as though he'd been stung.

"What did I do?" I asked quizzically.

"Ya shocked, that's wot you bloody did, ya spook!" He rubbed his hand and glared at me.

I glanced down at my fingers, and saw static lines of electricity run down them. Engineer laughed at me. "Your hair's standing up, spah. Did you get shocked something bad?"

"Yes," I grumbled, rubbing my hands together and shocking myself. "AAH!...It was quite a fight."

"A foight?" sniper said, eyeing me warily. "Wot exactly happened down here?"

I did a very brief explanation of the fight, but I suppose I was unclear since they plagued me qith questions as I staggered through the basement corridor. "Shut up please, I need to think."

The questions stopped, but I knew that I'd be plagued by them soon. I had nearly gotten up the cellar steps when I felt exhaustion overcome me, and my vision went black.

I awoke to probably one of the best smells you can ever wake up to. Food cooking. There was a sizzling noise coming from somewhere, and my mind wasn't quite awake, wasn't quite thinking yet. Okay, thoughts, line up and forward harch….

The first thought that burst in was, _Where the hell am I?_

I sat up, or at least tried to, but sudden pain shot through me and I fell back, defeated by the effort. "Urgh!"

I twisted my head and saw I was on a white bed. My arm had been bandaged with a white cloth, and there were dried bloodstains on it. Voices and other noises could be heard from outside the small room, which was bare save for the bed.

My memories slotted into place. Medic building a strange machine. Medic being killed. Scout getting injured, pyro…something about pyro.

Someone came in, and I closed my eyes until they were slits. I couldn't quite see this visitor. After a moment, I saw someone leaning over me, with bandages around his forehead and more on his neck. The person slid in and out of focus, and I fought to stay conscious. Eventually, I recognized him. Scout was pretty badly hurt, but based on how I could barely move, I'd guess I wasn't exactly in stellar shape either. "Well, mon ami, we are alive."

Scout started, and turned a little red. "Y-Yeah. Engineer's swept us those ashes things and…." He babbled on about something or another for a while. I focused in on his face, and took in the cuts and bruises. Had he received all these from the fight?

"What time is it?"

Scout looked nervous. "Well, ya slept the whole day. It's already morning again."

I attempted to sit up again, but was defeated by the effort. "I cannot even sit up…what 'appened to me?!"

Scout shrugged. "Hardhat said somethin' about damage to your muscles or some crap."

My muscles aren't crap, but oh well. They felt like it right now.

I dozed off again, and awoke to the smell of food again. I opened my eyes and saw afternoon light streaming in through the window. Scout sat in a chair by the bed, snoring. A tray of food was set by him. I could move again, so I sat up and devoured it.

Once I had satiated my stomach, I simply stared at the opposite wall.

Some months ago, I had joined BLU team to be a spy. I had expected my job to simply be shooting a few people, and when the contract was up I'd go home with a sizable sum of money. Soon, I'd been confronted with the fact that Mann Co. had tried to keep us here, for the sake of a petty squabble between two twins. When robots and other strange things had entered the scenario, we began to uncover little hints, up until realizing the plot also included several businesses connected to Mann Co.

The plot should have been done and over when we escaped. Yes, it was sad medic was dead, but I was out. That was all I cared about. Then, when withdrawing money, we learned we had to be detained. Then, well, chaos.

I knew I should have burned that envelope when I got it.

Scout woke up.

"Well," I told him. "Things certainly have become a fine mess."

Scout nodded slowly, and turned to look at the sunlight streaming in through the window. I stood, and went over to the window on aching legs. It was an amazingly peaceful sight. Despite all that had went on, the world continued turning regardless. It really put us in perspective.

Humans like to think we are important, but the universe goes on all the same. People invent things, but the massive celestial bodies will exist nevertheless.

Lost in thought, my eyes focused on the scene outside.

'Beautiful' is a word I rarely use, even in thought, but that was it. The orange light glowed down on the backyard, with fall trees. It seemed to father in orbs by the edge of my vision.

I took a step back as dizziness washed over me. The sight was strangely relaxing, though. Then scout let out a shout of alarm.

I looked back up to the window and my heart almost stopped.

A faint, hazy outline stood in the window. The outline of medic. Then, the very image of him. I could see right through him, as he was semi-transparent.

Most people don't believe in ghosts.

I didn't and still don't as I stare at this apparition.

It was an illusion in my mind, a trick of the light. Something. Just not medic.

Not possible.

No way.

Medic looked out the window. He opened his mouth, and spoke in a voice that seemed soft, warm, and well, had a tone I never associated with him. _Peaceful._ This wasn't the stressed image of medic. This was medic, without all that insane pressure and tension.

Without turning to me, he looked out the window with a small smile on his face. There was no trace of his German accent or recent transformation.

_"This world, as full of horror as it was for me, continues on."_

He looked slightly up to gaze into the sky. _"My anger at the world was used the wrong way. I guess I should have expected you to try and stop me. Then again, if there is one thing I learned from my time was that America, Germany, France."_ He paused, and now he laughed softly, before speaking again.

_"America, Germany, France, Spain, China, anywhere. People. They are all the same, even without some traits."_

Finally, he turned to me, and I saw the pure, angelic relaxation in his face. Now that I saw his relaxed face, that even when he was young his brow was always creased, eyebrows in a slight scowl.

_"All the same, these amazing creatures we are known as."_

Scout's mouth hung open.

_"The creatures called humans."  
_

[Type text]


	19. Chapter 19: Medic

AN: Yes, the last chapter was the 'end'. Have fun with the strange ending. This is an extra short story on medic, including a little epilogue.

**CHAPTER 19: MEDIC**

I've always been somewhat of an outcast, obviously from my dislike of others. I never liked crowds, and I never enjoyed conversations, unless they were useful or had an entertaining subject. I lived a relatively solitary life, having given up most hope of developing a machine to create an ageless body. Now, I worked as a part-time doctor, and did a bit of scientific fooling around at home.

When I was gathering the mail one day, I noticed that amid the bills and multiple offers to work for people (I had gained fame for my bio-research, but in an odd place. The scientific underworld. Wealthy men wanted me to do experiments for them, and maybe even make them immortal. Idiots.) there was an envelope with blue lettering.

It was from Mann Co.

I'd heard of this company, apparently a divided force that involved constant conflict.

When I got there, I immediately had my head bashed in by an unknown attacker and awoke by a dispenser, glasses caked in blood. A warm Texan voice breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Ah, great. You're still alive then. I thought we were gonna lose our new doc! Scout bashed in your skull real good, I was wonderin' if ma dispenser was good enough."

I spoke, and my voice came out with some of a croak. "Where…who are you?"

A face came into view, a man who needed shaving and had goggles on. "Heya. I'm the engineer for blue team. How are ya' doin'?"

I tried to smile, but that little movement made my face hurt. A lot.

The man who called himself engineer looked concerned. "Careful there, doc. Yer face is pretty messed up. It'll heal, but I think he cracked something."

"Who is zhis…'he'?" I asked angrily. I winced when talking caused my jaw to sting.

"Scout, damn bugger," the man said with a sigh. "Thought you were a goner there. Anyhow, nice to meetch'a. I'm the engie, and you'll be able to meet the other guys once you're up and about. I'll have you going better than a cattle herd soon."

I wasn't sure about the cattle herd part, but within a day he had me in healthy condition. "Danke, Herr Engineer. Also, is it customary to not use names here?"

Engineer nodded. "Once you're here, you just sort of get known by your job. Dang annoying at times, when you want somebody to say yer name, but ah well."

I left him and explored the base at first. I encountered nobody, for which I was graceful, since a new medic showing up with bandages around his forehead would be doubted. Engineer said scout was the role of a young American brat, who according to engineer, was "as brainless as a great horned toad that's lived fifty years". Engineer had strange linguistic similes.

I was cautious, in case I ended up meeting the boy again. In the kitchen, I did find a large, hulking man. He turned to me and grinned. "Doktor!" This, it would seem, was the heavy weapons person. Instinctively I knew that as he moved to hug me I'd lose some ribs. I expertly took a step back and bowed.

"Guten morgen, Herr Heavy. As you can see, I am a little frail at zhe moment."

Heavy nodded and let his arms drop. "Is good to have doctor again. Last one was no good. He bad, say not eat sandvich every day."

What the blazes was a 'sandvich'? Likely it was just his accented pronunciation of 'sandwich'.

"I see no problem vith you eating a sandwich," I said amicably. Being nice towards giants was usually a good idea. Plus, I hoped to establish trust as quickly as possible.

A lot more of the team filed in, as it seemed to be around noon. Most of them didn't notice me at first, as I stood inconspicuously in a corner, until a young teen looked at me. "Doc?"

This must be the scout. I put on a chilly smile, and reveled in seeing him shudder. My grin had that effect on people when I wanted it to. "Ah…so you are zhe boy who so kindly velcomed me by breaking my skull. You vill be happy to know I survived."

At my voice, the rest of the team spun around to face me. Engineer and the one should have been spy was not there either, but the rest were a formidable crew. I could tell they were examining me, sizing me up, and felt a degree of nervousness. A man with a helmet that covered his eyes roared, "You missed breakfast, soldier! A good soldier NEVER misses a meal! It might be the LAST ONE YOU GET!" He bolstered his words with sheer volume. What was wrong with him? "YOU SHOULD HAVE SHOWED UP YESTERDAY! Were you sleeping? You better not have been! A decent soldier-!"

I cut him off. "Never sleeps? I apologize, but I vas busy resting since zhiz boy (Violent gesture at scout) cracked open my skull vhen I arrived."

The man, who was apparently the soldier, turned on scout. "You! Infighting is a crime to war!"

He proceeded to rage on scout while an Australian man shrugged at my bewildered expression. "Soldier is loike that, mate. Welcome to the team, Oi suppose." He didn't sound all that enthusiastic by my presence, but from what the job requirements had, no doubt the previous medics had been mad mavericks of some sort.

The others introduced themselves, with varying degrees of inebriety. I say that because the demoman had drunk enough to satisfy twelve men.

The team members, are crazy.

Many of them have odd quirks and horrible personalities. Many of them would be outcasts and social misfits.

This is the best place I have ever been in my life.


End file.
